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IFE 


B.  JETE  R 


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Columbia  Statergitp 
mtijeCtfpofJtogork 

THE    LIBRARIES 


Bequest  of 

Frederic  Bancroft 

1860-1945 


LIFE 


OF 


J.  B.  JETEK,  D.  D. 


BY 

WM.  E.  HATCHER. 


» 


BALTIMOKE: 
H.  M.  WHARTON  AND  COMPANY. 

1887. 


\ 


-$^/33 


Copyrighted  1887,  H.  M.  Whakton  &  Co. 


*•''•:  Xti/i  U.  Jv-,.: 


I  DEDICATE  TO  TOD  THIS  MEMORIAL  VOLUME  OF  YOUR 
HONORED  HUSBAND, 

39r.  3.  55.  Seter. 

TO  THIS  ACT  I  AM  MOVED,  NOT  ONLY  BY  MY  RESPECT  FOR 
YOUR  CHRISTIAN  VIRTUES  AND  EMINENT  USEFULNESS,  BUT 
BY  A  GRATEFUL  REMEMBRANCE  OF  THAT  DEVOTED  AND 
INSPIRING  LOVE  WITH  WHICH  YOU  BRIGHTENED  HIS  OLD 
AGE. 

THE  SATISFACTION  WHICH  I  HAVE  FOUND  IN  THIS 
MODEST  EFFORT  TO  HONOR  A  VENERATED  KINSMAN  IS 
ENHANCED  BY  THE  OPPORTUNITY  NOW  AFFORDED  ME,  OF 
ATTESTING  PUBLICLY  MY  SINCERE  REGARD  FOR  YOU. 

Win.  E.  Hatcher. 


PREFACE. 

TN  presenting  this  volume  to  the  public,  I  beg  respectfully  to 
J-     accompany  it  with  several  brief  explanations. 

Soon  after  Dr.  Jeter's  death,  it  was  announced  that  I 
had  undertaken  to  prepare  his  biography.  It  happened  that  I 
encountered  difficulties  in  the  prosecution  of  the  work,  which 
compelled  its  temporary  suspension.  Happily,  these  obstacles,  at 
length,  were  removed,  and,  during  last  autumn,  I  was  enabled  to 
resume  my  cherished  task.  The  material  formerly  collected  for 
the  work,  has  been  of  great  value,  but  it  is  due  to  myself  to  say, 
that  all  the  original  matter  in  this  volume  has  been  written 
during  the  last  five  months,  and  that  too,  in  the  midst  of  the 
cares  and  interruptions  of  a  large  pastorate. 

The  reader  will  be  pleased  to  learn  in  advance,  that  many  of 
Dr.  Jeter's  "  Recollections  of  a  Long  Life,"  which  appeared  in 
the  Religious  Herald  several  years  before  his  death,  are  repro- 
duced in  this  work.  Lack  of  space  has  rendered  it  necessary  for 
me  to  omit  some  of  these  racy  and  delightful  papers,  but  I  have 
been  careful  to  incorporate  all  that  possessed  any  special  histori- 
cal interest. 

In  preparing  this  biography,  I  have  received  valuable  aid  from 
various  sources.  As  these  kindnesses  have  been  acknowledged 
in  the  course  of  the  story,  I  need  not  mention  here  the  names  of 
my  helpers.  As  I  had  to  draw  freely  on  my  own  resources  for 
material,  I  trust  that  my  personal  candor  will  not  be  mistaken 
for  egotism. 

And  now  in  the  fear  of  God,  and  with  a  desire  to  help  the 

living,  as  "well  as  to  honor  the  dead,  I  send  forth  this  book  to 

its  fate. 

Wm.  E.  Hatcher. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE. 

His  Kindred  and  His  Home 1 


CHAPTER  II. 
Birth  and  Early  Surroundings 18 

CHAPTER  III. 
The  School  Boy  and  His  Schools 41 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Conversion 65 

CHAPTER  V. 
Putting  on  the  Armor 84 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Young  Missionary 102 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Life  in  Sussex  and  Campbell 120 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
The  Northern  Neck 135 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Settlement  in  Richmond 175 

v 


vi  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  X. 

PAGE. 

St.  Loxtis  Pastorate     223 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Seventeen  Years  at  Grace  Street  Church 242 

CHAPTER  XII. 
In  the  Pulpit 281 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Pastoral  Character 318 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Achievements  in  Authorship 348 

CHAPTER  XV. 
In  the  Editorial  Chair 381 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
Personal  Traits 412 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
Christ  in  Him 442 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
The  Happy  End 477 


LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER  D.D. 


CHAPTER    I. 

HIS  KINDRED  AND  HIS  HOME. 

BIOGRAPHIES  are  often  encumbered  with  elabo- 
rate genealogies.  In  some  quarters  the  opinion 
seems  to  prevail  that  one's  title  to  public  respect 
is  to  be  measured  by  the  length  of  his  ancestral  line. 
I  harbor  no  grudge  against  noble  birth,  and  would 
not  disparage  the  benefits  which  belong  to  those  who 
spring  from  distinguished  families.  At  the  same 
time,  I  am  so  intensely  American  in  my  sentiments 
and  convictions  that  I  heartily  indorse  the  popular 
verdict,  that  men  are  to  be  estimated  not  by  the  ac- 
cidents of  fortune,  but  by  what  they  are  and  what 
they  do.  Real  honor  is  personal  and  not  hereditary. 
In  attempting  to  present  to  the  public  a  biograph- 
ical sketch  of  Jeremiah  Bell  Jeter,  I  am  saved  from 
the  necessity  of  loading  the  story  with  a  tedious  and 
bewildering  account  of  his  ancestry.  A  brief  chap- 
ter will  contain  all  that  needs  to  be  told  concerning 
his  parentage  and  kindred.  In  the  dense  forest  of 
family  trees,  his  is  modest  and  undistinguished.  He 
had  no  great  ancestry.  He  inherited  neither  wealth 
nor  honor  from  his  fathers.  It  would  not  add  one 
cubit  to  his  stature  for  me  to  multiply  paragraphs  in 

1 


2  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

eulogy  of  the  stock  from  which  he  sprang.  His  fore- 
fathers sleep  in  unmarked  graves. 

If  he  deserves  to  be  remembered,  it  is  not  so  much 
on  account  of  the  good  which  he  received,  as  for 
the  sake  of  the  blessings  which,  by  his  character 
and  deeds,  he  bestowed  upon  his  fellow-men. 

And  yet,  let  me  not  be  misunderstood.  It  would 
not  only  be  unpardonable,  but  unnatural  in  me  to 
speak  contemptuously  of  Dr.  Jeter's  kindred.  If 
they  were  not  famous,  they  were  at  least  free  from 
any  stain  of  reproach.  He  sometimes  indulged  the 
modest  boast  that  while  his  family  had  never  risen 
to  distinction,  they  had  never  sunken  to  disgrace. 
But  while  he  had  no  occasion  to  be  ashamed  of  his 
family  stock,  it  is  due  to  him  to  say  that  he  rose 
far  above  his  level  and  became  the  conspicuous  orna- 
ment of  his  house.  The  story  of  his  life  unveils  one 
who,  born  of  honest  and  unambitious  parentage,  and 
in  a  large  measure  denied  the  advantages  of  early 
culture,  wrought  out  for  himself  a  high  destiny.  En- 
tering the  track  of  his  earthly  journey  with  very 
little  in  his  environments  to  inspire  him,  he  had  with- 
in him,  even  from  his  childhood,  a  consciousness  of 
strength,  linked  with  a  modest  purpose  in  all  things 
"  to  do  his  very  best."  That  was  his  motto,  adopted 
in  his  youth,  and  it  became  the  guiding  star  of  his 
career.  For  nearly  four-score  years  he  walked  the 
earth,  inspired  at  every  step  by  that  lofty  sentiment. 
When  he  adopted  it  he  was  an  ignorant  and  un- 
noticed youth ;  but  when  he  came  to  the  end  a 
crown  of  honor  was  upon  his  brow. 

The  Jeter  family  hold  a  large  and  respectable  place 


HIS  KINDRED  AND  HIS  HOME.  3 

in  the  county  of  Bedford,  as  well  as  in  other  portions 
of  Virginia.  They  have  always  seemed  to  be  wedded 
to  rural  life,  and  fond  of  agricultural  pursuits.  While 
never  distinguished  for  wealth  or  genius,  they  have 
usually  stood  above  the  average  of  their  neighbors 
in  intelligence  and  self-respect.  A  few  of  them  have 
taken  rank  in  professional  life,  though  not  in  those 
professions  which  depend  for  success  upon  public 
speaking.  Now  and  then  some  of  them  have  sought 
their  fortunes  on  the  treacherous  sea  of  politics,  but 
owing  either  to  the  madness  of  the  waves,  or  to  the 
piratical  character  of  rival  crafts,  they  have  never 
ventured  very  far  from  shore. 

In  an  autobiographical  sketch  which  Dr.  Jeter 
commenced,  but  never  finished,  he  has  this  to  say  of 
the  Jeters, — 

Of  my  family-name  I  have  not  been  able  to  learn  the  history. 
It  is  obviously  a  French  name.  The  first  Jeter,  according  to  the 
family  tradition,  settled  near  Port  Royal,  in  Caroline  County,  in 
the  early  colonial  days.  From  all  that  I  can  learn  I  deem  it 
probable  that  the  family  was  of  Huguenot  origin,  was  settled  a 
while  in  England  and  thence  emigrated  to  this  country.  All  the 
Jeters,  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  sprang  from  a  common  stock.  They 
have  been  remarkable  for  their  mediocre  character.  They  have 
been  neither  rich  nor  poor,  learned  nor  illiterate,  eminent  nor  in- 
famous ;  but  with  scarcely  an  exception  a  plain,  substantial,  in- 
dependent and  respectable  people. 

There  is  something  characteristic  in  the  foregoing 
description  which  Dr.  Jeter  furnishes  of  his  family. 
He  mentions  that  the  Jeters  are  French  in  their  ori- 
gin, and  it  is  an  interesting  fact  that  after  the 
changes  of  many  generations  and  the  interminglings 
of  other  blood  they  still  possess,  in  a  marked  degree, 


4  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

the  buoyancy  and  volatility  of  their  forefathers.  Even 
to  the  present  day  they  are  remarkable  for  their  im- 
pulsiveness and  their  easy  and  hopeful  views  of  the 
future.  The  sun  of  hope  rarely  sinks  below  the 
Jeter  horizon.  They  never  cease  to  dream  of  the 
good  day  that  is  to  come,  and  often  they  dream  of 
good  days  which  never  come.  This  elastic  and  irre- 
pressible spirit,  chastened  by  experience  and  re- 
strained by  intelligence,  was  a  capital  feature  in  the 
character  of  Dr.  Jeter.  The  joy  of  spring  time  was 
in  his  temperament  and  sparkled  in  his  life  even  down 
to  old  age. 

His  father's  name  was  Pleasant  Jeter.  "He  was," 
says  Dr.  Jeter,  "one  of  ten  children,  all  of  whom 
lived  till  the  youngest  was  thirty  years  old  ;  and  all 
but  one  lived  until  the  youngest  had  passed  the  age 
of  sixty  years." 

Mr.  Pleasant  Jeter  was  a  man  of  eccentric  charac- 
ter. Good  native  gifts  he  unquestionably  possessed, 
but  he  was  uncultivated,  vacillating  and  improvident, 
He  never  gave  his  thoughts  to  religion,  and  was  so 
thriftless  in  his  habits  that  he  squandered  the  little 
inheritance  which  he  received  and  made  but  a  scanty 
provision  for  his  family.  He  drifted  from  place  to 
place,  and  for  a  good  part  of  his  life  had  no  perma- 
nent abode.  He  was  often  in  desperate  straits,  and 
now  and  then,  in  the  vain  hope  of  rebuilding  his 
fortunes,  he  crossed  the  mountains,  and  dwelt  in  the 
counties  of  Roanoke  and  Pulaski,  until  his  necessi- 
ties drove  him  back  to  Bedford. 

That  I  have  not  stated  the  case  too  strongly,  I 
present  here   Dr.  Jeter's  severely  candid  opinion  of 


HIS  KINDEED  AND  HIS  HOME.  5 

his  father,  which  he  wrote  when  he  was  himself  al- 
most three-score  years  and  ten.  He  said  :  "  My 
father  was  remarkable  for  nothing  except  bad  man- 
agement in  his  secular  affairs  and  air-castle  building." 

He  relieves  in  part  the  sharpness  of  his  criticism 
by  admitting  that  he  inherited  from  his  father,  in 
large  measure,  his  fondness  for  building  air-castles- 
He  says  that  in  his  earlier  years  he  was  incessantly 
employed  in  that  cheap  style  of  architecture,  and 
erected  some  towering  structures  of  that  sort.  It 
seems  almost  inconsistent  with  the  seriousness  of  his 
character,  that  even  in  his  old  age  he  found  comfort 
in  the  reflection  that  his  indulgence  in  idle  dream- 
ing "  lightened  the  toils  of  many  a  wearisome  hour, 
and  gilded  with  hope  a  prospect  that  else  had  been 
gloomy."  Perhaps  there  was  enough  of  the  French- 
man in  him,  not  only  to  love  dreaming,  but  to  feel 
that  there  was  a  substantial  value  in  well-built  castles, 
even  though  built  in  the  air.  That  dreamy  disposi- 
tion was  the  never-failing  mark  of  his  father's  life. 
His  estate  consisted  in  futile  and  unsubstantial 
dreams.  He  was  always  concocting  plans  which 
promised  vast  revenues,  but  whose  outcome  was  only 
disappointment.  Schemes  the  most  visionary  infat- 
uated him,  and  set  him  wild  with  hope,  and  then 
speedily  collapsed. 

It  was  during  Dr.  Jeter's  boyhood  that  his  father's 
life  was  most  unsettled  and  migratory.  Some  of  his 
most  affecting  and  humorous  recollections  were  con- 
nected with  the  wandering  life  which  he  had  in  his 
childhood. 

When  he  was  about  nine  years  of  age  his  father 


6  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

returned  with  his  family  to  Bedford  and  settled  in 
an  isolated  community,  located  a  few  miles  north  of 
Liberty.  That  section  was  known  in  my  early  days 
as  "  Powell's  Hollow."  It  is  about  as  grim  and  un- 
attractive a  spot  as  can  be  found  in  almost  any  part 
of  Virginia.  It  is  broken,  sterile  and  inaccessible, 
abounding  in  rugged  and  rocky  hills,  deep  gullies, 
and  mingled  briars,  broom-sedge  and  pine,  with  noth- 
ing to  relieve  the  dismal  picture,  except  the  rippling 
laughter  and  the  gleaming  beauty  of  the  North  Fork 
of  Otter  Creek ;  and  even  that  dashes  along  with  a 
speed  which  seems  to  indicate  an  impatience  to 
hasten  onward  to  more  attractive  scenes.  I  remem- 
ber well  that  in  my  boyhood  days  that  out-of-the- 
way  place  was  accounted  the  most  cheerless  and  des- 
olate part  of  North  Bedford.  Sometimes,  when  a 
man  fell  out  with  his  neighbor,  and  wished  to  set  out 
his  resentment  in  the  most  cutting  phrase,  he  ex- 
pressed the  wish  to  have  the  offender  exiled,  not  to 
Calcutta,  but  to  "  Powell's  Hollow."  Dr.  Jeter  said 
in  his  later  life  that  he  had  travelled  extensively, 
and  had  seen  many  rough  and  ugly  localities,  but 
that  his  eye  had  never  rested  on  any  place  more  for- 
bidding or  gloomy  than  the  neighborhood  in  which 
he  spent  the  days  of  his  boyhood.  It  seems  strange, 
indeed,  that  a  youth  brought  up  in  the  midst  of  such 
surroundings  should  have  possessed  such  a  quench- 
less yearning  for  knowledge  and  such  lofty  moral  and 
religious  aspirations. 

It  is  pleasant  to  add  that  his  associations  were 
not  restricted  to  the  limits  of  the  narrow  section  in 
which  he  had  his  home.     Other  and  brighter  com- 


HIS  KINDRED  AND  HIS  HOME.  7 

munities  were  in  his  reach,  and,  as  he  grew  toward 
manhood,  he  began  to  emerge  from  his  hiding-place 
and  to  find  better  companionships  among  his  kin- 
dred and  neighbors. 

His  mother's  name  was  Jane  Eke  Hatcher.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  Rev.  Jeremiah  Hatcher.  This 
Mr.  Hatcher,  if  we  can  trust  a  tradition,  was  the 
descendant  of  an  English  officer,  who,  far  back  in  col- 
onial times,  retired  from  the  navy,  came  to  America, 
settled  near  City  Point,  in  Chesterfield  County,  Va., 
and  reared  a  family.  Jeremiah  Hatcher  was  a  native 
of  Powhatan  County,  and  was  baptized  by  Elder 
Eleazar  Clay,  and  in  early  life  entered  the  Baptist 
ministry.  Not  much  is  known  of  his  ministry  in 
Lower  Virginia;  but  it  is  a  matter  of  history  that 
he  was,  for  a  season,  the  pastor  of  the  well-known, 
but  cruelly  named  old  Tomahawk  Church  in  Ches- 
terfield County.  This  church  still  survives,  but 
maintains  a  very  feeble  and  unprogressive  exist- 
ence. 

In  the  prime  of  his  manhood  Mr.  Hatcher  moved 
to  Bedford.  It  was  then  comparatively  a  wilder- 
ness, but  with  a  fast-incoming  population.  He 
secured  the  possession  of  an  extensive  area  of 
mountain  land,  and  reared  many  sons  and  daugh- 
ters. He  was  a  man  well  suited  for  the  times  in 
which  he  lived.  While  unhelped  by  the  discipline 
of  the  schools,  he  was  yet  a  man  of  marked  strength 
and  influence.  He  possessed  a  rugged  mind,  a  fiery 
zeal  and  an  intrepid  spirit.  If  he  did  not  have  cul- 
ture, he  at  least  had  that  heroic  courage  which 
made  him  a  man  of  valor  in  his  Master's  service. 


8  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

He  was  an  earnest  believer  in  the  gospel,  and  had 
an  ardent  love  for  the  souls  of  men.  His  ministry 
brought  him  neither  riches  nor  popular  applause ; 
but  it  won  for  him  an  honor  which  grows  brighter 
as  the  days  go  by.  At  his  own  charges  and  for 
many  years,  he  traversed  the  hills  of  Bedford  and 
the  adjacent  counties,  and  preached  the  good  news 
to  the  people.  He  did  a  good  work.  He  was  a 
pioneer,  and  bore  a  conspicuous  part  in  laying  the 
foundation  for  that  sturdy  moral  and  Christian  sen- 
timent which  so  strikingly  marks  the  inhabitants  of 
that  part  of  Virginia.  He  did  much  also  to  implant 
that  deep-rooted  Baptist  conviction  which  so  largely 
prevails  even  to  the  present  day  in  Bedford. 

I  remember  well  the  ruins  of  a  long,  rude  log- 
house,  which  stood  about  a  mile  distant  from  my 
childhood  home,  and  which,  though  it  had  long  been 
abandoned  as  a  place  of  worship,  was  still  known  as 
"Hatcher's  Meeting-House," — so  called  because  built 
on  the  land  and  by  the  efforts  of  this  man  of  God, 
and  because,  too,  it  was  the  chief  scene  of  his  minis- 
terial labors.  For  many  years  it  was  the  centre  of 
religious  influence  in  Northern  Bedford,  and  contin- 
ued to  be  so  for  years  after  the  old  veteran  had 
ended  his  labors  and  gone  to  his  reward.  Out 
of  that  church  went  forth  several  other  Baptist 
churches,  which  still  exist  and  steadfastly  maintain 
the  faith  of  their  fathers.  Mr.  Hatcher  died  about 
the  opening  of  the  present  century,  and  possibly  not 
until  he  was  permitted  to  look  upon  the  face  of  the 
grandson  that  was  to  inherit  his  name  and  take  up 
his  fallen  mantle. 


HIS  KINDRED  AND  HIS  HOME.  9 

The  mother  of  Dr.  Jeter  is  said  to  have  been  a 
woman  of  shrinking  modesty  and  deep  religious  con- 
victions. So  far  as  I  can  ascertain,  she  never  be- 
came a  church  member;  but  Dr.  Jeter  delighted  to 
testify  that  she  exerted  over  him  a  quiet  and  potent 
religious  influence.  He  said  that  while  she  rarely 
spoke  to  him  on  Christian  themes,  he  knew  well 
where  she  stood.  Now  and  then  she  ventured  to 
utter  a  plea  for  Christ,  and  it  fell  upon  him  with 
irresistible  force.  Her  feeble  health,  her  household 
cares  and  her  poverty,  combined  to  debar  her  from 
the  privileges  of  the  Lord's  house.  But  her  father's 
faith  lived  in  her  soul,  transformed  her  life  and  con- 
soled her  in  the  midst  of  her  sorrows.  Her  lot  was 
a  harsh  one  for  a  spirit  so  timid,  sensitive  and  griev- 
ously tried.  Her  shifting  life  and  the  dissipated  and 
reckless  habits  of  her  husband  overburdened  her; 
and  worn  down  by  many  adversities,  she  sank  a 
victim  to  consumption  in  the  later  prime  of  her  life. 

Her  life  was  happily  spared  until  her  children 
had  attained  to  maturity,  and  what  was  yet  better, 
until  they  had  become  imbued  with  her  meek  and 
patient  spirit.  In  number  her  children  were  seven, 
— three  sons  and  four  daughters.  Of  the  sons,  Jere- 
miah Bell  was  the  oldest;  Ira,  the  second,  was  fee- 
ble-minded, and  died  while  yet  in  his  youth;  and 
Andrew,  the  youngest  son,  was  considered  by  many 
as  the  most  gifted  of  his  family.  By  the  generous 
assistance  of  his  oldest  brother,  Andrew  was  well 
educated,  entered  the  medical  profession  and  won 
distinction  as  a  practitioner  and  teacher.  He  died 
many  years  ago,  before  he  had  reached  the  meridian 


10  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

of  life.  At  the  time  of  his  death  he  held  a  profes- 
sorship in  the  Medical  University  of  Missouri. 

The  names  of  the  daughters  were  Margaret  (al- 
ways called  Peggy),  Edith,  Betsy  and  Sarah.  These 
all  married  worthy,  substantial  men,  and  resided  for 
many  years  in  the  State  of  Missouri.  All  of  them 
became  Baptists  in  their  youth,  and  emulated  the 
piety  and  zeal  of  their  brother.  Two  of  them  pre- 
ceded him  to  the  eternal  world;  the  other  two  still 
survive. 

During  the  life-time  of  his  mother  it  was  Dr. 
Jeter's  custom  to  pay  her  an  annual  visit,  and  from 
that  act  of  filial  devotion  no  trivial  obstacle  could 
divert  him. 

They  were  often  separated  by  great  distances,  and 
the  modes  of  travel  in  those  days  were  rude,  tire- 
some and  inconvenient;  but  he  could  not  be  deterred. 
Ah,  those  were  sunny  days  in  the  life  of  that  mother! 
Who  can  describe  the  pride  and  joy  with  which  she 
hailed  his  coming?  What  charming  breaks  did 
these  yearly  visits  make  in  her  monotonous  life ! 
With  what  swelling  rapture  did  she  gaze  upon  her 
son,  now  rounded  into  full  manhood,  decked  in 
thickening  honors  and  with  the  seal  of  God's  bless- 
ing upon  him !  What  a  balm  she  found  for  her 
wounded  spirit  in  his  sympathy  and  devotion! 

Those  were  the  days  of  his  poverty.  lie  started 
with  nothing,  and  his  income  was  small.  But  he 
was  never  too  poor  to  help  his  mother.  His  care 
for  her  in  her  misfortunes  was  exceedingly  tender. 
Of  the  substance  which  the  Lord  gave  him,  he  re- 
served for  her  a  goodly  part.     I  well  remember  the 


HIS  KINDRED  AND  HIS  HOME.  H 

"  presents,"  as  they  were  proudly  called,  which  he 
so  often  brought  or  sent  to  the  family,  while  they 
yet  remained  in  Bedford.  The  fountain  of  his  kind- 
ness never  ran  dry ;  but  it  grew  in  volume  and  rich- 
ness as  he  grew  in  prosperity.  I  think  that  the 
later  chapters  of  this  volume  will  reveal  a  character 
with  which  even  the  strange  reader  must  fall  in 
love,  and  yet  there  is  nothing  to  tell  more  worthy 
of  admiration  than  Dr.  Jeter's  affectionate  concern 
for  his  mother's  comfort. 

It  seems  no  great  thing  to  say  that  he  robbed  him- 
self to  supply  the  needs  of  his  mother.  That  is 
what  any  son  ought  to  be  always  ready  to  do,  but  I 
am  not  sure  that  all  young  ministers  are  quite  so 
thoughtful  about  their  mothers  as  was  Dr.  Jeter. 
Many  of  them  come  from  humble  homes,  and  leave 
overtaxed  and  impoverished  parents  behind  them. 
From  the  schools  they  often  step  into  lucrative  pas- 
torates ;  but  their  eagerness  to  enlarge  their  libraries, 
their  impatience  to  marry,  and  the  temptation  to  ex- 
pensive styles  of  living,  sometimes  make  them  for- 
get the  sweet  mother  at  the  old  home,  who  tugged 
and  struggled  so  patiently  to  give  them  a  start  in 
life. 

There  are  many  worthy  ways  in  which  a  preacher 
can  spend  a  part  of  his  income  for  the  good  of  others, 
but  I  know  none  which  is  more  pleasing  to  God  than 
that  of  helping  the  old  folks  at  home.  A  new  dress 
for  mother,  the  mending  of  the  old  carriage,  the  re- 
painting of  the  homestead,  a  few  shining  dollars  in 
the  mother's  purse  to  spend  as  she  pleases,  or  shoes 
and   hats    and    suits    and    dresses    for   the  younger 


12  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

brothers  and  sisters — ah,  these  are  tokens  of  ministe- 
rial piety,  very  beautiful,  but  far  too  rare. 

I  have  said  that  Dr.  Jeter  was  named  Jeremiah 
for  his  paternal  grandfather.  He  tells  us  that  he 
was  called  Bell  after  his  paternal  grandmother,  whose 
maiden-name  was  Bell.  He  represents  her  as  a 
woman  of  strong  character,  and  says  that  he  once 
hearfl  his  father  say,  after  her  death,  that  he  had 
never  in  all  of  his  life  "  seen  her  angry,"  though  she 
did  not  die  until  she  was  in  the  eighty-seventh  year 
of  her  age. 

While  speaking  of  his  grandmother  it  seems  worth 
while  that  I  should  give  the  reader  the  following 
quaint  and  interesting  extract  from  his  autobiograph- 
ical papers  with  reference  to  his  great-grandmother 
on  his  father's  side. 

"  My  father's  grandmother,  named  Miller  from  her  third  mar- 
riage, died  after  I  commenced  my  ministry,  in  the  ninety-sixth 
year  of  her  age.  I  heard  her  say  that  she  kept  a  register  of  her 
descendants  until  they  numbered  one  hundred  and  fifty,  and  that 
they  then  multiplied  beyond  her  knowledge,  but  that  she  supposed 
they  amounted  to  three  hundred.  Shortly  after  that  time  I  know 
that  I  had  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  living  first  cousins,  eighty 
of  whom  were  her  descendants." 

The  name  by  which  Dr.  Jeter  was  always  known 
in  Bedford  was  Jerry  Bell.  That  was  the  name  by 
which  he  was  called  in  his  childhood,  and  in  his  old 
community  he  continued  to  be  called  by  it  to  the  end 
of  his  life.  This  is  somewhat  remarkable,  for  I  can 
recall  no  other  man  who  was  invariably  called  by 
both  of  his  names.  This  may  have  arisen  from  the 
fact  that  both  families  were  represented  in  his  name, 


HIS  KINDRED  AND  HIS  HOME.  13 

and  each  was  anxious  that  its  own  side  should  not 
be  forgotten.  At  any  rate,  it  was  the  custom  alike 
of  his  kindred  and  his  early  acquaintances  to  use 
that  double  title  in  addressing  him  or  in  speaking  of 
him,  and  the  name  was  often  found  on  the  lips  both 
of  white  and  colored,  when  they  chanced  to  mention 
him. 

I  need  not  say  that  the  Bedford  people  were  very 
proud  of  Dr.  Jeter.  His  kindred  recognized  him  as 
a  prince  in  genius,  wisdom  and  piety,  and  always 
hailed  his  visits  with  delight.  His  kinspeople  were 
for  the  most  part  thrifty  and  comfortable,  though  un- 
pretentious in  their  styles  of  living,  and  they  coveted 
no  higher  earthly  honor  than  to  have  him  cross  their 
thresholds  and  share  the  hospitality  of  their  boards. 
It  was  a  high  day  in  their  history  when  he  came, 
and  they  gave  him  the  best  that  they  had.  It  was 
particularly  gratifying  to  the  people  at  large  when 
he  preached  in  the  neighborhood  churches.  The 
simple  report  that  "Jerry  Bell"  would  preach  at 
Mount  Hermon  or  Suck  Spring  on  a  given  day  was 
sufficient  to  empty  the  mountain  gorges,  and  flood 
the  church-yards  with  the  multitudes. 

It  is  a  fact  not  always  recognized  that  country 
people  are  more  intellectual  than  are  the  busy  and 
rushing  dwellers  in  the  cities.  While  they  may  not 
be  so  easy  in  their  manners,  or  glib  in  their  speech, 
they  are  far  more  thoughtful.  They  are  much  given 
to  speculation  and  controversy.  They  delight  to 
gather  in  groups,  in  the  store,  or  at  the  post-office,  or 
in  the  grove,  or  around  the  wood-fire  in  the  winter 
evenings,  and  discuss  problems  in  nature,  politics  or 


14  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D, 

religion.  This  seems  to  be  peculiarly  true  of  the 
Bedford  people.  They  are  a  race  of  thinkers.  They 
love  to  ask  questions  and  seem  never  so  happy  as 
when  wrestling  with  each  other  in  hot  debate.  It 
was  an  unconscious  tribute  which  they  often  bore  to 
the  wisdom  of  Dr.  Jeter,  that  when  unable  to  settle 
some  knotty  question,  they  would  determine  to  appeal 
to  his  judgment.  They  seemed  to  think  that  he 
knew  almost  everything,  and  when  he  uttered  his 
verdict,  the  discussion  was  closed. 

His  ipse  dixit  with  many  was  the  end  of  contro- 
versy. 

I  may  be  pardoned  for  addinghere  thatno  classof  the 
Bedford  people  more  sincerely  admired  Dr.  Jeter  than 
the  negroes.  They  were  then,  of  course,  in  slavery, 
but  they  attended  public  worship  in  the  same  houses 
with  their  masters,  and  many  of  them  were  devout 
and  consistent  members  of  the  same  churches.  Their 
eagerness  to  hear  "  Mars  Jerry  Bell "  whenever  he 
preached  in  Bedford  was  intense.  They  would  walk 
for  miles  and  miles  to  hear  him.  If  his  sermons 
chanced  to  come  on  a  week-day  instead  of  the  Sab- 
bath, they  would  manage  to  persuade  their  masters 
to  proclaim  a  holiday  that  they  might  go.  If,  in  the 
excitement  of  the  occasion,  they  found  themselves 
crowded  out  of  their  accustomed  place  in  the  house, 
they  would  swarm  about  the  doors  and  windows,  and, 
with  open  ear  and  eye  and  mouth,  catch  every  word 
that  fell  from  his  lips.  It  was  amusing  and  some- 
times very  affecting  to  hear  the  comments  which  they 
would  make  upon  him  after  the  sermon  was  over. 

"  Lord  bless  you,  master,"  the  old  colored  brother 


'    HIS  KINDRED  AND  HIS  HOME.  15 

would  say ;  "  Wa'n't  it  good  ?  Dat's  what  I  call 
preachin.  Mars  Jerry  Bell  is  mighty  in  de  word, 
and  knows  how  to  put  it." 

The  doctor  was  fond  of  relating  a  ludicrous  and 
laughable  incident  which  occurred  during  one  of  his 
visits  to  Bedford.  While  passing  along  one  of  the 
public  roads  on  horseback  one  morning,  he  went  by 
a  field  in  which,  a  little  distance  away,  a  colored 
man  was  ploughing.  As  he  went  galloping  by,  the 
negro  checked  his  horses,  scanned  him  with  a  search- 
ing eye,  and  then,  in  a  tremor  of  excitement,  shrieked 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  "  I  say  dar."  Dr.  Jeter 
reined  in  his  steed,  drew  up  to  the  fence  and  awaited 
further  developments.  "I  say  dar,"  continued  the 
simple-hearted  ploughman,  "ain't  you  Mars  Berry 
Jell  ?"  Amazed  at  the  odd  tangle  in  which  his  sable 
brother  had  gotten  his  name,  he  asked,  "Am  I 
what  ?"  "Ain't  you  Mars  Berry  Jell  ?"  He  made  a 
polite  bow  and  replied,  "  Yes,  this  is  Berry  Jell,"  and 
then  speedily  swept  on  his  way,  but  not  until  he  had 
seen  two  rows  of  snowy  teeth  grinning  out  the  poor 
fellow's  pride  and  satisfaction  in  having  actually 
spoken  to  "  Mars  Berry  Jell." 

This  story  suggests  another.  The  colored  people 
of  Bedford  often  expressed  their  admiration  for  Dr. 
Jeter  by  naming  their  children  for  him. 

During  a  certain  summer  he  was  spending  a  part 
of  his  vacation  at  the  home  of  my  father.  One  after- 
noon he  set  out  on  foot  to  pay  a  visit  to  a  cousin. 
His  walk  took  him  through  a  forest,  and  quite  un- 
expectedly he  stumbled  upon  a  colored  urchin  who 
was  stealing  a  nap  on  the  wayside.     The  approach 


16  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

of  Dr.  Jeter  aroused  him,  and  he  sprang  to  his  feet 
in  surprise  and  fright.  Dr.  Jeter,  in  a  spirit  of  mis- 
chief, with  well-feigned  severity,  said,  "And  who  are 
you  ?"  Never  dreaming  that  he  was  in  the  presence 
of  his  illustrious  namesake,  the  scared  youngster  re- 
plied, "  I  am  Jerry  Bell."  The  doctor  said  he  had 
been  laboring  for  some  time  under  the  impression 
that  he  was  Jerry  Bell,  but  that  after  that  interview 
he  had  begun  to  think  that  it  would  not  be  very  easy 
to  determine,  in  Bedford  at  least,  the  exact  identity 
of  Jerry  Bell.  The  stock  seemed  to  be  embarrass- 
ingly numerous. 

Dr.  Jeter  was  proud  of  the  name  of  Jeter.  He 
said  that  he  had  rarely  ever  known  a  man  by  that 
name  that  was  not  an  honest  man.  That  may  have 
been  claiming  too  much  for  his  family,  but  the  Bed- 
ford Jeters  have  always  been  distinguished  for  their 
probity  and  their  high  sense  of  honor.  He  said  on 
one  occasion  that  it  was  a  matter  of  humiliation  to 
him,  that  many  persons  who  had  been  called  after 
him  brought  reproach  upon  the  name.  In  some 
cases  that  was  true,  but  there  have  been  many 
Jeters  (I  mean  those  named  for  him)  who  wore  the 
name  worthily. 

Some  time  before  his  death  I  met  him  one 
morning,  and  upon  inquiring  after  his  health,  he  said 
that  he  was  not  well  and  had  been  suffering  with  a 
slight  attack  of  insomnia.  He  told  me  that,  as  he 
was  unable  to  sleep  the  night  before,  he  spent  a  part 
of  his  time  in  calculating  the  number  of  ways  in 
which  the  name  of  Jeter  could  be  spelled.  He  said  he 
counted  three  hundred  different  combinations  of  let- 


HIS  KINDRED  AND  HIS  HOME.  17 

ters  which  exactly  spelt  the  name  and  that  he  sup- 
posed there  were  others.  This  may  strike  the  reader 
as  incredible,  but  let  him  try  it. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  the  mercurial  and  buoy- 
ant temperament  of  the  Jeters.  The  Hatchers  are 
not  their  equals  in  elasticity  and  ardor  of  nature — 
but  they  are  more  practical,  sober  and  thoughtful. 
Dr.  Jeter  combined  in  himself  the  best  characteristics 
of  both  families. 
2 


CHAPTER    II. 

HIS   BIRTH  AND  EARLY  SURROUNDINGS. 

JEREMIAH  BELL  JETER  was  born  in  Bedford 
County,  Va.,  on  the  18th  of  July,  1802.  Ac- 
cording to  his  own  statement,  his  birth-place 
was  the  old  homestead  of  his  maternal  grandfather. 
The  house  in  which  he  was  born  would  cut  a  sorry 
figure  if  brought  into  comparison  with  the  stately 
and  imposing  edifices  which  are  now  quite  numerous 
in  Northern  Bedford.  At  the  time  of  its  erection, 
however,  it  was  probably  the  most  commodious  pri- 
vate residence  in  the  entire  community.  It  was  a 
framed  building,  one  story  and  a  half  in  height,  with 
shingled  roof  and  stone  chimneys.  It  had  four  main 
rooms,  with  small  windows,  and  doors,  high  from  the 
ground  and  approached  by  block  steps.  It  never 
knew  the  refining  touch  of  paint,  and  as  a  consequence 
presented  to  the  eye  of  the  stranger  a  weather-beaten 
and  neglected  appearance.  But  it  was  not  without 
its  attractive  features.  It  was  delightfully  situated 
on  an  elevated  plain,  and,  with  its  blue-grass  turf, 
its  rows  of  locusts,  its  mammoth  old  acorn  tree,  its 
adjacent  garden  of  roses  and  lilacs  and  its  great  or- 
chard, it  made  an*  enchanting  picture  as  it  nestled 
near  the  base  of  the  Piney  Mountain.  It  commanded 
above  the  line  of  the  nearer  mountains  a  lovely  view 
18 


HIS  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  SURROUNDINGS.  19 

of  the  Peaks  of  Otter  on  the  one  side  and  of  the  No- 
Business  Mountain  on  the  other.  It  was  never 
honored  with  any  name  of  its  own,  but  it  was  known 
far  and  near  as  the  homestead  of  the  old  Baptist 
preacher,  Jeremiah  Hatcher.  For  many,  many  years 
he  dwelt  there,  and  the  place  became  the  favorite 
resort  of  his  children  and  grand-children,  not  only 
during  his  life-time,  but  long  after  he  had  passed 
away.  Almost  every  Saturday  night  some  members 
of  the  scattered  household  knocked  at  the  door,  and 
the  idle  Sundays,  sadly  common  then,  often  drew  to- 
gether groups  of  kindred,  attracted  by  their  love  of 
the  dear  old  spot,  who  gave  their  hours  to  happy 
fellowship.  It  was  not  the  most  religious  method  of 
spending  the  Lord's  day,  but  such  was  the  custom  of 
the  times,  and  social  visiting  on  the  Sabbath  was  not 
then  accounted  a  sinful  thing.  If  there  chanced  to 
be  preaching  in  the  neighborhood,  you  might  be  sure 
that  the  Sunday  dinner  in  that  house  would  be  pre- 
pared with  bountiful  care,  for  the  dear  old  mother 
knew  that  the  loved  company  would  inevitably  come. 

That  dinner  was  the  highest  triumph  of  the  simple- 
hearted  hospitality  which  reigned  in  those  days. 
There  was  no  costly  plate,  no  rare  dishes,  no  tiresome 
courses  and  no  pompous  ceremony.  It  was  only  a 
country  dinner,  composed  of  the  simple  products  of 
farm  and  garden,  but  it  was,  at  least,  abundant,  cor- 
dially dispensed  and  richly  enjoyed. 

Inasmuch  as  it  happens  that  in  describing  the 
birth-place  of  Dr.  Jeter  I  am  at  the  same  time  de- 
scribing my  own  childhood  home,  I  must  be  pardoned 
for  the  warmth  and  tenderness  of  my  words.     One 


20  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

is  fairly  entitled  to  charity  if,  in  speaking  of  his  early 
home,  he  drifts  into  a  candor  which  seems  unduly 
personal.  At  the  death  of  Jeremiah  Hatcher,  my 
father  inherited  what  was  in  those  days  called  the 
"  home  place,"  and  there,  of  course,  my  boyhood  life 
was  spent.  Oh,  with  what  deep  passion  did  I  love 
that  quiet  old  mountain  home  !  To  my  boyish  fancy 
it  was  the  centre  of  the  world.  It  seemed  always  to 
have  been  what  it  was,  and  for  a  while  I  never 
dreamed  that  it  could  change.  In  all  the  heart- 
breaks and  woes  of  subsequent  life  I  have  known 
no  sorrow  to  be  compared  with  that  sickness  of  heart 
which  came  with  my  first  absences  from  my  father's 
house.  Even  now,  under  the  glow  of  an  affectionate 
memory,  the  faces  and  scenes  of  those  early  days 
take  on  a  beauty  so  mellow  and  sad  that  I  cannot 
recall  them  except  with  moistening  eye-lids.  Be- 
neath the  cherry-tree  at  the  corner  of  the  garden 
slept  the  dust  of  my  Presbyterian  mother,  who  died 
on  my  fourth  birth-day,  and  who,  with  her  dying 
breath,  prayed  that  her  two  sons  might  become  min- 
isters of  the  gospel.  There,  in  his  lonely  old  age, 
dwelt  my  father,  who  made  his  last-born  his  compan- 
ion by  day  and  always  locked  him  fondly  to  his 
breast  through  every  live-long  night.  One  could  not 
be  poor  who  was  enriched  with  the  treasure  of  such 
fatherly  affection.  Royal  evenings  that  household 
used  to  have  around  the  winter  fires,  with  ample 
stores  of  apples,  chestnuts  and  cider,  sometimes  sing- 
ing the  old  songs,  sometimes  reading  aloud  the  paper 
or  the  book,  and  always  ready  for  the  spicy  jest  or 
the  crafty  practical  joke.     Alas !  the  house  is  now  in 


HIS  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  SURROUNDINGS.  21 

the  hands  of  strangers  and  its  former  inmates  are 
either  dead  or  scattered  beyond  the  hope  of  reunion. 

The  simple  old  mansion  had  at  its  rear  a  shed-room, 
which,  I  know  not  for  how  long,  was  called  the  "  little 
room."  It  had  no  fire-place,  no  out-door,  and  only 
one  window,  which  looked  toward  the  West.  Such 
truant  sunbeams  as  ventured  to  peer  through  that 
little  window  on  the  18th  of  July,  1802,  enjoyed  the 
distinction  of  being  the  first  to  hail  the  advent  of  the 
then  nameless  little  stranger,  whose  subsequent  story 
is  to  be  unfolded  in  these  pages.  It  is  believed  that 
the  birth  of  young  Jeter  occurred  just  a  little  while 
before  the  death  of  his  grandfather. 

Bedford  County  lies  in  Middle  Virginia  and  at  the 
eastern  base  of  the  Blue  Ridge  Mountains.  While 
it  has  been  justly  admired  for  its  grand  scenery,  its 
thrifty  population  and  its  productive  soil,  I  must 
agree  with  Dr.  Jeter  that  it  has  not  much  in  its  his- 
tory to  give  it  eminent  rank  in  the  family  of  Virginia 
Counties.  It  has  at  least  one  magnificent  natural 
characteristic,  of  which  any  land  might  justly  boast. 
I  refer,  of  course,  to  the  celebrated  Peaks  of  Otter. 
This  spur  of  the  Blue  Ridge  is  singularly  beautiful 
in  its  form,  and  affords  one  of  the  most  commanding 
views  which  can  be  enjoyed  from  any  mountain  sum- 
mit. It  is  easily  accessible,  and  has  been  for  gener- 
ations, as  it  yet  remains,  an  attractive  resort  for 
travellers  from  almost  every  quarter  of  the  globe. 
Of  that  majestic  old  mountain  Dr.  Jeter  sometimes 
feelingly  spoke  as  his  only  Bedford  friend  that  had 
never  changed. 

Dr.  A.  B.  Brown  once  said  that  God's  plant-bed 


22  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

for  raising  Baptist  preachers  lay  along  the  eastern 
base  of  the  Blue  Ridge.  His  remark  is  specially 
applicable  to  Bedford.  It  is  not  only  true  that  many 
of  her  young  men  have  entered  the  Baptist  ministry, 
but  the  ministerial  ranks  of  other  denominations 
have  also  received  numerous  and  valuable  recruits 
from  the  same  quarter.  Indeed,  Dr.  Jeter  is  frank 
enough  to  say  that  Bedford  was  never  remarkable 
for  anything  except  for  the  production  of  preachers. 
With  that  opinion  I  do  not  agree.  The  sons  of  Bed- 
ford have  achieved  eminence  in  almost  every  walk  of 
life.  But  he  is  right,  beyond  question,  when  he 
claims  pre-eminence  for  that  county  m  the  matter  of 
furnishing  men  for  the  ministry. 

Why  this  has  been  so  I  cannot  explain.  Viewed 
from  the  human  standpoint,  the  question  has  often 
perplexed  me.  The  Bedford  people  are  not  distin- 
guished for  piety,  and  they  have  never  shown  any 
marked  anxiety  for  their  young  men  to  go  into  the 
ministry.  They  are  not  conspicuous  friends  of  min- 
isterial education  and  by  no  means  famous  for  liber- 
ality in  sustaining  their  young  brethren  in  their 
struggles  to  educate  themselves  for  the  Lord's  service. 
It  is  a  suggestive  fact  that  when  a  Bedford  boy  be- 
comes a  preacher  he  invariably  leaves  the  county. 
The  churches  often  lament  this  state  of  things,  but 
they  have  as  yet  done  nothing  to  change  it. 

We  will  pause  here  and  invite  Dr.  Jeter  to  furnish 
his  recollections  of  the  social  aspects  of  Bedford  as 
they  were  three-quarters  of  a  century  ago.  After 
pondering  what  he  has  to  say,  the  reader  will  con- 
clude that  there  was  not  much  then  in  the  situation 


HIS  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  SURROUNDINGS.  23 

to  impel  young  men  to  enter  the  ministry.  I  have 
sometimes  thought  that  in  the  fact  that  so  many 
Bedford  youths  have  become  preachers,  we  have  a 
strong  incidental  proof  that  God,  by  His  own  sover- 
eign authority,  chooses  the  men  who  are  to  preach 
His  gospel.  Here  follows  Dr.  Jeter's  portrayal  of 
the  social  and  religious  condition  of  Bedford,  as  seen 
by  his  boyish  eyes, — 

THE  STATE  OF  SOCIETY. 

The  state  of  society  in  my  native  county,  in  the  days  of  my 
boyhood,  did  not  differ  materially,  I  presume,  from  that  of  the 
Piedmont  region,  or,  indeed,  of  the  rural  districts  generally.  The 
people  were  plain,  and  mostly  industrious  and  honest.  Their  no- 
torious vices  were  drunkenness  and  fighting.  In  that  day  the  use 
of  strong  drink  was  universal,  or  limited  only  by  the  ability  to 
obtain  it.  Many  of  the  fanners  had  large  orchards,  and  made 
brandy  for  their  own  use  and  for  that  of  their  neighbors.  As 
there  was  no  tax  on  the  distillation  of  spirits,  almost  every  neigh- 
borhood had  its  distillery  for  the  manufacture  of  whiskey.  At 
every  place  of  public  resort,  store,  blacksmith's  shop  or  mill,  the 
liquid  was  freely  offered  for  sale,  and  everywhere  found  a  ready 
market.  Most  families  kept  it  in  their  "  case,"  and  all,  from  the 
hoary-headed  father  to  the  little  child,  partook  daily  of  the  morn- 
ing "  dram  "  and  the  noontide  "  grog  "  or  "  toddy."  Families 
too  poor  to  indulge  in  its  daily  use  would  drink  it  freely  on  holi- 
day and  festive  occasions.  At  musters,  courts,  "  corn-shuckings  " 
and  "  log-rollings  "  all  drank,  at  their  own  expense  or  that  of 
their  friends.  It  is  not  surprising,  where  drinking  was  universal, 
that  drunkenness  was  common.  It  is  proper  to  remark,  however, 
that  the  excess  was  occasional  rather  than  habitual.  There  were 
many  drunkards,  but  few  sots.  Men  were  preserved  from  habit- 
ual inebriety,  partly  from  a  motive  of  economy  and  partly  from 
the  incessant  demands  of  their  business.  On  muster-days  and 
court-days  the  frequency  of  drunkenness  stripped  it,  in  a  great 
measure,  of  its  shame  and  reproach ;  but  at  other  times  and  on 


24  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

other  occasions  it  was  more  disreputable.  It  must  be  said,  in 
honor  of  the  society,  that  the  vice  was  almost  unknown  among 
females.  Many  of  the  old  women  smoked  their  pipes,  and  women 
of  all  ages  drank,  constantly  or  occasionally,  toddy  ;  but  not  until 
I  had  passed  my  majority,  and  left  the  county  of  my  nativity,  did 
my  eyes  behold  that  monstrous  sight — a  drunken  woman. 

As  already  stated,  "  fighting  "  was  a  prevalent  vice  in  the  com- 
munity. When  men  got  at  variance,  they  settled  their  contro- 
versies, not  in  the  genteel  and  refined  method  of  blowing  out  one 
another's  brains  with  powder  and  ball,  but  by  furious  quarrel- 
ing, too  often  accompanied  by  revolting  profanity,  ending  in  a 
regular  game  of  fisticuffs.  The  combat  brought  no  disgrace  on 
the  pugilists ;  and  though  they  were  sometimes  "  parted "  by 
their  friends,  they  were  usually  permitted,  with  what  was  called 
"  fair  play,"  to  continue  the  fight  until  the  one  having  the  least 
strength  or  the  least  "  pluck  "  was  constrained  to  cry  "  enough." 
Every  blow  struck  after  that  sign  of  surrender  was  deemed  cow- 
ardly and  mean.  Rarely  a  muster  passed  without  one  or  more 
fights.  A  half-dozen  on  court-day  was  deemed  a  very  moderate 
number ;  and  sometimes  the  excitement  and  the  combats  would 
become  what  was  termed  a  "  battle  royal." 

It  is  not  strange  that  a  vice  so  common  and  so  popular  should 
have  developed  professional  fighters.  They  were  known  as 
"  bullies."  Men  of  great  muscle,  courage  and  powers  of  endur- 
ance gained  for  themselves  a  renown  resembling  that  of  the 
knights-errant  of  old,  by  their  pugilistic  exploits.  They  were 
viewed  by  the  vulgar  crowd  as  men  of  great  distinction.  They 
very  naturally  became  haughty,  insolent  and  defiant,  awakening 
fear  among  all  the  feebler  combatants,  and  contempt  in  all  per- 
sons of  refinement  and  virtue.  They  strutted  on  the  muster-fields 
and  court-greens,  conscious  of  their  physical  superiority  and  then- 
acknowledged  prowess. 

It  may  assist  the  reader  to  form  a  proper  estimate  of  the  times 
by  stating  an  event,  as  we  heard  it  in  our  boyhood,  in  the  life  of 
a  celebrated  bully.  It  occurred  at  a  roadside  tavern.  A  dispute 
arose  between  him  and  a  Kentucky  traveller.  The  rowdy  was 
tall  and  muscular,  weighing  two  hundred  pounds,  and  in  full 
training  for  single  combat.     The  Kentuckian  was  a  small,  well- 


HIS  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  SURROUNDINGS.  25 

formed  and  agile  man,  of  perfect  self-possession.  From  some  dif- 
ference of  views,  the  Bedford  hero  was  induced  to  use  insulting 
language  to  the  traveller,  who  coolly  stated  that  if  the  language 
were  repeated  he  would  chastise  the  offender.  Of  course,  such  a 
threat  was  not  to  be  endured.  A  fight  ensued,  in  which  the  bully 
was  thoroughly  whipped  aud  humbled.  The  best  of  the  story  is, 
that  he  never  again  attempted  to  distinguish  himself  in  the  game 
of  fisticuffs. 

It  will  not  seem  surprising  that  a  vice  so  common  and  so  glori- 
ous among  men  should  have  found  imitators  among  boys.  Fight- 
ing might  almost  have  been  classed  among  the  amusements  of 
some  of  the  schools.  To  endure  an  insult  was  contrary  to  the 
ethical  code  of  the  boys.  They  might  be  restrained,  by  natural 
timidity,  parental  authority  or  the  dread  of  an  unequal  conflict, 
from  resenting  an  offence  or  an  injury  ;  but  lex  talionis  was  the 
law  of  boyhood.  Few  boys  of  that  day  reached  manhood  with- 
out fighting  ;  and  many  of  them  had  more  combats  than  they  had 
fingers  and  toes.  These  impotent  conflicts  were  usually  attended 
with  very  little  harm.  A  scratched  face  or  a  bitten  finger  was 
ordinarily  the  worst  result  of  these  juvenile  pugilisms.  The  boys 
deemed  it  prudent  not  to  allow  any  serious  injury  to  be  inflicted 
in  these  combats,  lest  they  should  become  implicated  in  the  guilt, 
and  the  rod  should  be  substituted  for  the  fist. 

The  amusements  were  such  as  corresponded  with  the  times  and 
the  people.  Dancing  was  not  a  common,  but  an  occasional  and 
holiday  exercise.  It  was  rarely  practiced  without  special  prepa- 
ration ;  and  then  its  devotees  aimed  to  indemnify  themselves  for 
its  infrequency  by  excessive  indulgence.  They  danced  till  the 
exercise  became  a  weariness,  and  nature  imperatively  demanded 
its  needed  repose.  The  plays  in  which  the  sexes  united  were 
blindman's  buff,  thimble,  whiffling  pin,  and  many  others  whose 
names  I  have  forgotten,  and  which,  if  I  could  mention,  would 
convey  no  definite  conceptions  to  the  mind  of  the  reader. 

The  sports  in  which  men  alone  took  part  were  mostly  athletic. 
Hunting  was  a  favorite  exercise  of  many,  both  young  and  old. 
Squirrels,  hares,  partridges,  ducks,  wild  turkeys,  opossums,  foxes, 
raccoons,  deer  and  bears  were  all  hunted  by  sportsmen.  The 
game,  on  the  whole,  was  not  worth  the  powder ;  but  it  created 


26  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

excitement,  which  was  no  little  valued  by  the  population  of  a 
quiet  rural  district.  Hounds,  traps  and  guns,  both  smooth  and 
rifled,  were  put  in  requisition  for  the  sport. 

In  hunting  and  shooting  I  was  undistinguished.  The  first  time 
I  was  trusted  with  a  gun,  I  came  upon  a  squirrel  standing  in  a 
path  a  few  steps  from  me,  nibbling  an  ear  of  corn,  which  he  had 
feloniously  taken  from  a  contiguous  field.  I  was  seized  with  an 
instant  tremor.  After  hasty  consideration,  my  plan  of  assault 
was  laid.  I  ran  at  the  thief  to  drive  him  up  a  tree,  and  suc- 
ceeded admirably.  He  climbed  a  tall  oak,  thickly  covered  with 
boughs,  and  I  saw  him  no  more.  It  was  fully  six  months  before 
it  occurred  to  me  that  I  might  have  shot  him  on  the  ground. 
My  subsequent  success  in  sportsmanship  fully  corresponded  with 
this  unpromising  commencement.  I  could  never  kill  anything, 
either  running  or  on  the  wing.  I  could  take  aim  as  accurately, 
or  fire  as  quickly,  as  any  marksman  ;  but  if  I  fired,  I  did  not 
take  aim  ;  and  if  I  took  aim,  I  did  not  fire.  In  either  case,  the 
game  was  unharmed.  If  slaughtered  animals  were  permitted  to 
indict  their  relentless  pursuers,  few  of  all  the  Bedford  boys  would 
be  freer  from  blame  than  I,  provided  that  guilt  be  graduated,  not 
by  the  intent,  but  by  the  execution. 

The  religious  privileges  of  the  people  were  few,  and  not  of  the 
first  quality.  They  were  divided  in  their  opinions  and  prefer- 
ences between  the  Presbyterian,  Methodist  and  Baptist  denomi- 
nations. Their  houses  of  worship,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  were 
either  built  of  logs  or  framed,  without  plastering,  ceiling  or  stoves, 
fitted  merely  as  shelters  from  sun  and  rain.  In  the  winter  sea- 
sons preaching  was  kept  up  chiefly  in  private  dwellings.  Re- 
ligious services  were  conducted  monthly,  or  at  greater  or  shorter 
intervals ;  but  in  no  case  weekly.  Most  persons,  provided  with 
conveniences,  could,  within  a  radius  of  six  or  eight  miles,  conven- 
iently attend  worship  every  Lord's  day,  conducted  by  one  or  an- 
other of  the  prevalent  denominations.  Sunday-schools  were  un- 
known. They  existed  in  older  and  more  advanced  communities, 
but  if  the  rumor  of  their  existence  had  reached  Bedford,  I  do  not 
remember  it.  Meetings  for  social  prayer  were  rarely  held.  I 
have  no  recollection  of  attending  one  until  I  had  reached  matur- 
ity, and  that  was  a  notable  failure. 


HIS  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  SURROUNDINGS.  27 

The  preaching  of  the  day  was  evangelical.  It  might  be  con- 
fused in  arrangement,  meagre  in  thought,  obscure,  ungrammatical 
and  coarse  in  style,  and  vociferous  and  awkward  in  delivery  ;  but, 
with  few  exceptions,  it  disclosed,  with  more  or  less  distinctness 
and  force,  the  atonement  of  Christ  and  the  necessity  of  regenera- 
tion. It  was  remarkable  for  its  experimental  character.  Most 
sermons  contained  an  account  of  the  conversions,  conflicts,  sorrows 
and  perplexities  of  a  soul  in  its  passage  from  death  to  life,  some- 
what after  the  manner  of  Christian  in  the  Pilgrim's  Progress. 
There  was  little  variety  in  the  preaching.  Many  sermons  began 
with  the  fill  of  man,  touched  on  the  principal  doctrines  of  revela- 
tion, gave  a  Christian's  experience,  conducted  him  safely  to 
heaven  and  wound  up  with  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  the 
general  judgment,  the  retributions  of  eternity  and  an  application 
of  the  subject  according  as  "light  and  liberty"  were  granted. 
These  discourses  were  generally  an  hour  and  a  half,  and  some- 
times three  hours  in  length.  A  few  were  of  moderate  length,  and 
delivered  in  better  taste. 

Many  of  the  preachers  "  spiritualized  "  their  texts — that  is, 
they  would  take  plain,  historical  passages  of  Scripture,  and,  by 
fanciful  resemblances,  draw  from  them  lessons  of  which  their 
authors  never  dreamed.  The  Songs  of  Solomon  were  an  inex- 
haustible source  of  texts  for  the  allegorizers.  There  was  scarcely 
a  verse  in  the  book  which  they  did  not  torture  into  pious  absurd- 
ity. Some  of  these  mystifiers  found  the  matter  for  a  tedious  ser- 
mon in  a  single  word.  A  godly,  worthy  and  highly-esteemed 
preacher  took  for  his  text:  "Wherefore,  gird  up  the  loins  of  your 
mind,"  etc.  He  based  his  discourse  on  the  word  "  loins,"  which 
he  confounded  with  the  word  lines.  There  were  various  kinds  of 
lines — lines  by  which  carpenters  executed  their  work,  lines  for 
the  division  of  land,  lines  of  stages  for  travellers,  lines  for  guiding 
unruly  teams — and  in  all  these  uses  of  the  word  he  found  a  mys- 
tical import,  which  he  unfolded  to  the  delight  and  for  the  edifica- 
tion of  his  hearers.  Other  preachers  went  still  further,  and  found 
a  spiritual  import  in  every  letter  of  the  Bible.  A  pious  minister 
declared  that  he  believed  not  only  every  text,  but  every  letter, 
and  every  crook  and  dot  of  every  letter,  had  a  spiritual  meaning. 
His  trouble  was,  that  he  could  not  discern  all  these  mysteries.     I 


28  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

will  give  a  brief  outline  of  a  discourse  of  one  of  these  spiritualizers. 
His  text  was  :  "  Salvation  is  of  the  Lord."  To  him  it  seemed  that 
there  was  something  mystical  in  every  letter  of  the  word  Salva- 
tion. He  proceeded  to  evolve  its  mysteries.  "  S,"  said  he,  "  sav- 
ing salvation  (not  very  luminous) ;  A,  almighty  salvation  ;  L, 
lasting  salvation ;  V,  vast  salvation ;  A — this  A  my  brethren, 
signifies  the  same  as  the  other  A ;  T,  eternal  salvation  (he  was 
probably  a  better  divine  than  an  orthographer) ;  I,  incompre- 
hensible salvation ;  ON — we  will  take  both  these  letters  together 
— honorable  salvation."  The  preacher  had  now  a  broad  founda- 
tion for  his  sermon,  on  which  he  built  leisurely  and  for  an  hour 
or  two. 

It  must  be  conceded  that  these  are  the  poorest  specimens  of 
the  allegorical  style  of  preaching.  In  merit,  however,  there  was 
little  distinction  between  the  best  and  the  worst,  the  most  ingeni- 
ous and  the  most  absurd  discourses  of  this  style.  They  were  all 
drawn  from  an  exuberant  imagination,  and  not  from  the  oracles 
of  God.  It  is  proper,  too,  to  state  that,  amid  much  that  was 
puerile  and  disgusting,  there  was  frequently  mingled  momentous 
truth,  illustrated  by  apt  analogies  and  enforced  with  unaffected 
pathos.  It  should  be  remembered,  also,  that  this  method  of  ex- 
pounding the  Scriptures  claimed  high  authority.  It  originated 
with,  or  was,  at  least,  greatly  encouraged  by  Origen,  one  of  the 
most  learned  and  voluminous  of  the  early  Christian  Fathers. 
Dr.  Gill,  unrivalled  among  modern  commentators  for  Hebraistic 
lore,  gave  no  little  encouragement  to  it.  It  must  be  noted,  too, 
that  the  practice  was  not  limited  to  the  illiterate,  but  prevailed, 
more  or  less,  with  ministers  of  the  highest  culture  and  of  all  de- 
nominations. This  remark  was  certainly  true  within  the  range  of 
my  juvenile  observations. 

There  was  another  striking  peculiarity  in  the  preaching  that  I 
heard  in  my  early  years.  It  was  eminently  controversial.  Every 
preacher  was  a  polemic.  Whether  his  text  was  doctrinal  or  practi- 
cal, historical  or  poetical,  gracious  or  denunciatory,  he  could  find  in 
it  a  hook  on  which  to  suspend  his  distinctive  notions,  and  a  club 
with  which  to  defend  them.  If  he  was  a  Methodist,  his  hearers 
would  have  no  doubt  that  he  rejected  predestination,  believed  in 
Christian  perfection  (whatever  that  may  be),  and  the  liability  of 


HIS  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  SURROUNDINGS.  29 

believers  to  fall  from  grace,  and,  quite  probably,  infant  baptism 
and  the  validity  of  the  ordinance  by  sprinkling.  Presbyterians 
and  Baptists  were  quite  ready  to  assert  and  defend  the  doctrines  of 
election  and  the  certain  salvation  of  all  believers  ;  nor  were  they 
slow  to  attack  what  they  considered  Arminian  errors.  Baptists 
did  not  then,  certainly  very  few  ministers  among  them  did,  give 
undue  prominence  to  their  distinctive  views. 

To  the  candid  and  fair  discussion  of  doctrinal  questions  on 
which  Christians  differ  there  can  be  no  objection.  It  is  demanded 
by  the  love  of  truth  and  fidelity  to  Christ.  Unfortunately,  how- 
ever, the  religious  controversies  of  those  days  were  too  often  con- 
ducted in  a  bitter  and  abusive  spirit.  The  aim  of  the  contestants 
seemed  to  be,  not  to  convince  their  hearers  and  win  them  to  the 
truth,  but  to  wound,  overwhelm  and  bring  into  contempt  their 
opponents.  Had  their  hearers  judged  of  Calvinists  from  the  rep- 
resentations of  Methodists,  they  must  have  concluded  that  the 
believers  in  predestination  were  not  only  infatuated,  but  on  the 
high  road  to  the  perpetration  of  all  manner  of  crimes.  "  It  came 
from  hell,"  it  was  said,  "  and  would  be  the  means  of  conducting 
multitudes  thither.  If  it  were  true,  God  would  be  worse  than  the 
devil."  These  violent  assaults  were  returned  by  Calvinists  in  full 
measure,  heaped  up  and  running  over.  Said  a  preacher,  who, 
by  the  sharpness  of  his  sarcasm,  had  acquired  the  title  of  "  The 
Arminian  Skinner," — "  From  fifty  to  a  hundred  souls  are  con- 
verted at  a  Methodist  camp-meeting.  In  a  little  while  they  all 
fall  from  grace.  What  a  disappointment !  The  poor  souls  were 
disappointed,  the  Methodists  were  disappointed,  and  God  was 
disappointed.  The  only  way  to  save  Methodist  converts  is  to  cut 
off  their  heads  and  send  them  straight  to  heaven,  before  they 
have  an  opportunity  of  falling  from  grace." 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  all  preachers  labored  in  this  spirit 
and  manner.  The  general  tendency  was  to  doctrinal  and  contro- 
versial preaching,  but  there  were  many  preachers  who  avoided  in 
the  pulpit  all  acrimonious  and  discourteous  remarks.  They 
preached  the  gospel  with  simplicity  and  earnestness.  Among 
these  may  be  mentioned  Rev.  William  Harris,  the  venerable 
pastor  of  my  youth,  of  whom  I  may  have  occasion  to  speak  more 
particularly  hereafter. 


30  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

It  is  questionable  whether  ministers  of  the  present  day  are  not  in 
danger  of  drifting  to  the  opposite  extreme  from  that  of  the  early- 
preachers  of  the  century.  A  sickly  sentimentalism  is  leading 
them,  not  only  to  avoid  offensive  language  in  the  pulpit,  but  to 
efface  the  distinction  between  truth  and  error.  Bigotry  is  bad, 
but  not  so  bad  as  religious  indifference.  There  is  a  sharp  conflict 
between  truth  and  error,  right  and  wrong,  and  God  requires  that 
his  servants  shall  espouse  and  earnestly,  but  lovingly,  maintain 
the  teachings  of  his  word. 

I  must  notice  another  peculiarity  in  the  preaching  of  those 
times.  Much  of  it  was  uttered  in  a  monotonous,  singing  tone. 
This  tone  usually  indicated  the  higher  and  more  impassioned 
parts  of  the  discourse.  There  was  power  in  it.  Among  a  plain, 
uncritical  people,  it  had  a  wonderful  mastery  over  the  sympathies. 
Many  of  these  unsophisticated  preachers  carried  the  art  of  inton- 
ing their  sermons  to  the  highest  excellence.  There  were  most 
touching  melody  and  pathos  in  their  voices.  Rev.  Andrew 
Broaddus,  of  Carolina,  one  of  the  most  polished  speakers  I  have 
ever  heard,  would  occasionally,  in  the  highest  stains  of  his  en- 
rapturing eloquence,  glide  into  the  "  holy  tone "  with  thrilling 
effect.  The  tones  of  the  voice  have  much  to  do  with  the  influ- 
ence of  all  kinds  of  public  speaking.  It  is  supposed  by  some 
Hellenists  that  Demosthenes  delivered  his  splendid  orations  in 
tones  resembling  those  adopted  by  the  old  preachers. 

There  is  something  peculiarly  refreshing  in  the 
subjoined  description  which  Dr.  Jeter  gives  of  his 
early  experience  in  the  matter  of  whiskey-drinking. 
It  shows  the  stuff  of  which  he  was  made  : 

I  have  already  referred  to  the  almost  universal  custom  of  drink- 
ing alcoholic  liquors.  I  drank,  as  did  other  boys.  When  I  was 
a  little  over  eight  years  old  I  heard  a  wagon-boy,  somewhat  older 
than  I,  say:  "  I  have  not  drunk  a  drop  of  spirits  for  three  years." 
I  had  no  acquaintance  with  him,  but  instantly  resolved  that  I 
would  follow  his  example.  I  cannot  now  remember  the  motive 
which  gave  birth  to  the  resolution.  I  had  no  conviction  that  the 
use  of  strong  drink  was  either  sinful  or  dangerous ;  and  suspect 


HIS  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  SURROUNDINGS.  31 

that  I  was  influenced  in  my  purpose  more  by  a  desire  to  be  sin- 
gular than  to  be  safe.  I  made  no  boast,  or  even  mention,  of  my 
resolution.  The  pledge  was  entirely  mental.  When  spirit  was 
afterwards  offered  to  me,  I  simply  declined  drinking  it.  A  course 
so  singular  soon  attracted  attention.  My  friends  were  surprised 
and  troubled  that  I  should  have  adopted  a  resolution  fraught 
with  so  much  peril.  They  were  quite  sure  that  I  would  become 
a  drunkard.  In  confirmation  of  their  opinion,  they  referred  to 
at  least  half-a-dozen  men  who  had  abstained  entirely  from  using 
strong  drink,  had  become  sots,  and  some  of  them  died  drunkards. 
I  supposed  I  had  made  a  dreadful  mistake,  and  was  much 
troubled  at  it ;  for  I  had  great  horror  of  becoming  a  drunkard. 
I  counselled  with  no  one  on  the  subject ;  but  concluded  that  my 
safest  course  would  be  to  glide  back,  without  attracting  notice, 
into  the  use  of  strong  drink.  It  occurred  to  me,  however,  that 
this  might  be  the  means  of  fulfilling  the  prediction  of  my  friends. 
I  was  perplexed.  I  can  never  forget  the  pleasure  which  I  expe- 
rienced when  the  truth  broke  on  my  mind  that  if  I  should  never 
drink  intoxicating  liquors  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  be- 
come a  drunkard.  My  good  resolution  was  confirmed.  My 
friends  were  correct  in  their  facts,  but  erred  in  their  conclusion. 
There  was  a  mighty  factor  in  the  account  which  they  entirely 
overlooked.  The  persons  they  named  abstained  from  using 
strong  drink  for  a  time,  in  the  vain  effort  of  breaking  the  habit 
of  intoxication,  which  they  had  formed  by  the  long-continued  use 
of  strong  drink.  I  had  no  such  habit  to  break.  Their  reasoning 
was  sound  as  it  applied  to  persons  in  a  condition  like  that  of  those 
named  ;  and  the  soundness  of  the  reasoning  constitutes  one  of  the 
strongest  motives  to  abstain  from  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks. 
It  is  easy  to  avoid  forming  the  drunken  habit,  but  almost  im- 
possible to  break  it. 

I  continued  steadfast  in  my  resolution  until,  in  the  twentieth 
year  of  my  age,  I  made  a  profession  of  religion  ;  and  then, 
strange  to  say,  I  concluded  to  abandon  it,  on  the  ground  that  the 
gospel  had  set  me  free.  It  seemed  unreasonable  that  I  should 
bear  a  self-imposed  yoke.  Using  strong  drink  appeared  to  be 
numbered  among  the  privileges  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  All 
Christians  enjoyed  it,  from  my  venerable  and  very  temperate 


32  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

pastor  down  to  the  humblest  church  member ;  and  why  should 
not  I  ?  This  delusion  did  not  long  continue  with  me.  It  is  pro- 
bable that  I  did  not  take  half-a-dozen  drinks,  and  possibly  not  a 
single  drink,  of  intoxicating  liquor  before  I  renewed  my  resolu- 
tion. Of  this  transaction,  my  late  friend,  Dr.  Witt,  retained  a 
more  distinct  recollection  than  I  did,  and  shall  furnish  the  history 
of  it.     He  says  : 

"Some  time  during  the  summer  of  1822  an  event  occurred 
which  I  ought  not  to  pass  over  in  silence,  as  it  contributed  largely 
to  the  safety  and  the  felicity  of  my  life.  We  (he  and  myself) 
were  attending  a  meeting  at  Hatcher's  meeting-house,  and  had 
spent  the  night  at  a  Brother  White's,  who  lived  in  that  neighbor- 
hood. In  the  morning,  as  the  custom  was,  a  decanter  of  spirits, 
with  sugar  and  water,  was  set  out  and  we  were  invited  to  partake 
of  it.  We  were  in  the  habit  of  tasting,  occasionally,  of  the 
insidious  cup ;  but  I  do  not  now  recollect  whether  on  this  occasion 
we  drank  or  not.  We  were  led  into  a  conversation  on  the  sub- 
ject. We  concurred  in  the  opinion  that  it  was  not  only  a  useless 
habit,  but  that  it  was  fraught  with  pernicious  consequences.  We 
then  and  there,  on  a  bright  and  beautiful  Sabbath  morning, 
mutually  resolved  to  abstain,  during  the  remainder  of  our  lives, 
from  the  use  of  intoxicating  liquor  as  a  beverage,  and  to  use  it  only 
as  a  medicine,  if  used  at  all.  We  pledged  ourselves  each  to  the 
other  in  a  hearty  shaking  of  hands  ;  and  that  sacred  pledge  we 
have  religiously  kept  for  half  a  century."  (Life  of  Witt,  pp. 
58,  59.) 

It  is  painful  to  learn,  from  the  foregoing  paper 
of  Dr.  Jeter,  that  drunkenness  was  so  prevalent 
among  the  Bedford  people  a  century  ago.  I  venture 
to  follow  his  statement  with  two  explanatory  facts. 

It  is  quite  certain  that  the  dissipation  of  those 
times  sprang  not  so  much  from  the  saloon  as  from 
the  distillery.  Almost  every  prosperous  farmer  who 
had  an  orchard  of  his  own  had  his  arrangements  for 
making  peach  and  apple  brandy.  This  was  manu- 
factured more   for  domestic  than   commercial   pur- 


HIS  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  SURROUNDINGS.  33 

poses.  Many  ran  their  stills  for  the  benefit,  or  more 
truly  for  the  injury,  of  their  neighbors  as  well  as  of 
themselves.  The  poorer  people  brought  in  their 
fruit,  and  had  it  converted  into  brandy  on  shares. 
In  this  way  almost  every  family  kept  a  constant 
supply,  and  esteemed  it  one  of  the  highest  rites  of 
hospitality  to  bring  out  the  decanter  for  the  refresh- 
ment of  the  visitors.  They  drank  at  home,  and  not 
at  the  public  bars.  It  is  true  that  at  the  court- 
houses and  on  muster-days  whiskey  was  plentiful, 
and  as  public  sentiment  was  not  against  it,  good  men 
sometimes  fell  into  drunkenness  on  public  occasions. 
But  this  was  not  common.  If  I  mistake  not,  the 
popular  belief  was  that  the  use  of  brandy  was  justi- 
fiable, but  that  the  drinking  of  whiskey  was  a  crim- 
inal act.  Brandy  was  a  domestic  article,  and  the 
people  thought  that  they  had  the  right  to  use  the 
products  of  their  own  toil.  If  it  made  them 
drunk,  it  was  a  private  matter,  and  outsiders  had 
no  right  to  interfere.  Of  the  truth  of  this  state- 
ment, I  recall  a  ludicrous  illustration.  In  one  of 
the  Baptist  churches  of  Bedford,  about  a  half- 
century  ago,  a  well-known  member  was  arraigned 
for  discipline  for  drunkenness.  The  suspicious  form 
of  the  indictment  was  that  the  brother  had  been 
"  drunk  from  drinking  whiskey."  His  accuser  testi- 
fied that  he  had  seen  him  staggering  along  the 
streets  of  Lynchburg  in  a  state  of  helpless  intoxi- 
cation. The  accused  was  present,  and  heard  the 
grave  charge  with  quiet  and  unruffled  composure; 
indeed,  there  was  a  twinkle  of  triumph  in  his  eye. 
When  asked  if  he  had  aught  to  say  in  his  defence, 


34  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

he  arose  leisurely  and  said:  "Nothing,  except  to 
deny  the  charge;  it  is  not  true."  The  situation  be- 
came extremely  awkward.  His  accuser  was  non- 
plussed, but  at  length  declared  again  that  with  his 
own  eyes  he  "  had  seen  the  brother  reeling  through 
the  streets."  But  once  more  the  accused  man  re- 
newed his  denial.  He  received  the  benefit  of  the 
doubt,  and  was  acquitted.  When  they  left  the 
house,  the  brother  who  had  brought  the  charge  said 
to  him :  "  I  thought  you  were  a  man  of  truth  ;  but 
after  your  denial  to-day,  I  can  never  believe  that 
you  are  an  honest  man.  You  know  that  you  were 
drunk."  "  Why,"  said  the  man,  "  I  do  not  deny 
that  I  was  drunk ;  but  I  do  deny  that  I  got  drunk  by 
drinking  whiskey :  it  was  brandy."  Evidently  he  felt 
that  to  drink  excessively  of  whiskey  was  a  crime;  but 
that  the  use  of  brandy  was  not  to  be  condemned. 

It  is  pleasant  to  add  that  in  twenty-five  years 
after  Dr.  Jeter  left  Bedford  there  had  been  a 
marked  change  in  the  habits  of  the  people.  The 
still-houses  had  fallen  into  decay;  social  drinking 
had,  in  a  large  measure,  ceased,  and  drunkenness 
was  no  longer  common.  I  grew  up  in  the  same 
neighborhood  from  which  he  had  gone  out,  and  I 
think  that  I  can  safely  testify  that  there  were  not  a 
half-dozen  men  in  that  community  that  were  ad- 
dicted to  excessive  drinking.  This  happy  change 
came  in  part  through  temperance  societies  and  from 
the  increased  self-respect  and  piety  of  the  people. 
The  older  men  still  indulged  their  morning  toddies, 
and  Christmas  insisted  on  its  bowl  of  egg-nog;  but 
social  drinking  had  ceased  to  be  respectable. 


HIS  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  SURROUNDINGS.  35 

In  our  times  drunkenness  is  disreputable,  and  yet 
not  a  few  of  our  young  men  defy  public  sentiment 
and  become  drunkards.  What  a  contrast  between 
them  and  the  youthful  Jeter,  who  boldly  defied  a 
vicious  sentiment  in  favor  of  drinking,  and  chose 
the  path  of  sobriety,  even  though  he  had  to  walk 
alone ! 

It  will  entertain  the  reader  to  recur  to  some  sup- 
erstitious notions  which  prevailed  in  Virginia  a  cen- 
tury ago.  I  append  here  a  brief  extract  from  Dr. 
Jeter's  "  Recollections."  Things  have  changed  for 
the  better  since  the  time  of  which  he  writes,  but  the 
spirit  of  superstition  still  exists  among  the  unedu- 
cated classes  of  our  population.  The  ghost-story  has 
not  lost  its  charm  or  its  terror,  and  perhaps  will  not 
to  the  end  of  time. 

PREVALENT  SUPERSTITIONS. 

The  word  "superstition"  has  quite  a  variety  of  meanings.  I 
use  it  to  denote  the  dread  of  imaginary  beings  or  evils.  It  has 
prevailed,  more  or  less,  among  all  peoples,  barbarous  and  civi- 
lized, and  in  all  ages.  It  is  more  common  among  the  ignorant 
than  among  the  cultivated  classes  of  society;  but  is  by  no 
means  limited  to  them.  The  grosser  superstitions  of  my  neigh- 
borhood were  passing  away  at  the  time  of  my  boyhood.  I  never 
saw  a  witch,  or  a  woman  reputed  to  be  one,  though  I  heard  many 
thrilling  stories  of  witches  that  had  recently  resided  in  the  vicin- 
ity. My  father  and  mother  were  entirely  free  from  superstition. 
They  never  gave  the  slightest  credence  to  the  witch  and  ghost 
stories  then  current  in  the  community.  I  adopted  the  views  of 
my  parents;  but,  in  spite  of  my  incredulity,  in  the  dark  and 
alone,  I  was  terribly  afraid  of  seeing  something  which  I  might 
imagine  was  a  ghost.  In  about  a  mile  of  my  residence  was  a 
place  called  Gatson's.  It  was  an  old  field  overgrown  with  bushes 
and  young  pines,  from  which  almost  every  vestige  of  a  dwelling 


36  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

had  been  removed.  Here,  before  my  birth,  resided  old  Mrs.  Gat- 
son.  Her  neighbors  believed  most  unquestionably  that  she  was  a 
witch.  I  heard  my  grandfather,  who  lived  near  her,  tell  this 
story  about  her : 

One  of  her  neighbors  suffered  loss  by  a  disease  among  his  cat- 
tle or  hogs  ;  and  Mrs.  Gatson  was  strongly  suspected  of  having 
bewitched  them.  It  was  resolved  that  the  matter  should  be  put 
to  a  test.  It  was  believed  that  if  new  needles  were  boiled  in  a 
pot,  the  witch  would  come  to  the  house,  and  not  be  able  to  enter 
it,  unless  she  could  pick  up  something  in  the  yard  to  take  with 
her.  Arrangements  were  made  for  the  trial.  The  yard  was 
carefully  swept,  and  every  movable  thing  was  taken  away.  New 
needles  were  put  into  a  pot  of  boiling  water,  and  all  were  on  the 
qui  vive  for  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Gatson.  Sure  enough,  she  soon 
made  her  appearance,  walked  through  the  yard,  and,  picking  up 
a  little  child  that  had  been  permitted  to  stray  beyond  the  door, 
went  directly  into  the  house.  The  trial  had  been  a  partial  fail- 
ure ,  but  the  measure  of  success  had  been  sufficient  to  strengthen 
the  suspicion  that  she  was  a  witch.  She  removed  from  the  neigh- 
borhood ;  but  left  behind  her,  among  the  superstitious,  the  unwa- 
vering belief  that  she  was  a  witch. 

There  had  been,  in  my  early  days,  a  great  abatement  of  the 
superstitions  of  the  past ,  but  still  they  lingered  among  ignorant 
people,  and  especially  among  the  negroes.  Story-telling  was  one 
of  the  common  amusements  of  the  times  ;  and  these  stories 
usually  related  to  witches,  hags,  giants,  prophetic  dreams,  ghosts 
and  the  like.  The  dread  of  jack-o'-lanterns,  graveyards  and 
ghosts  was  quite  common,  and  extended  much  beyond  the  avowed 
belief  in  their  reality.  Haunted  spots  were  quite  common,  to 
which  timid  passengers  usually  gave  a  wide  berth  in  the  night. 
Ghosts  were  not  unfrequently  seen  gliding  about  in  the  twilight, 
or  in  the  moonshine,  clothed  in  white.  Indeed,  I  came  very  near 
seeing  a  ghost  myself.  When  I  was  a  lad,  having  heen  at  work 
in  a  distant  field,  I  was  returning  home  by  moonlight.  At  a 
sudden  turn  in  the  road  I  saw,  directly  before  me,  an  object, 
ghost-like  in  color,  but  of  a  dim  and  undefined  shape.  I  surveyed 
it  with  more  alarm  than  pleasure.  At  first  it  seemed  still,  but 
after  I  had  gazed  at  it  awhile,  it  seemed  to  move  slowly  from  side 


HIS  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  SURROUNDINGS.  37 

to  side  in  the  road.  My  father  had  a  servant,  an  old  man,  who 
was  coming  not  far  behind  me,  who  made  great  boasts  of  his 
heroism.  He  had  no  fear  of  ghosts.  He  was,  however,  when  he 
came  up,  startled  by  the  apparition.  After  carefully  eyeing  it, 
and  duly  considering  the  danger,  and  arming  himself  with  a 
bludgeon,  he  resolved  to  approach  it.  As  he  advanced  with  slow 
and  trembling  steps,  I  marched  close  behind  him,  and  found  that 
the  supposed  ghost  was  a  wagon,  loaded  with  white  plank,  that 
had  broken  down  and  been  left  in  the  road.  Many  such  ghosts 
were  seen  in  that  day. 

In  my  early  years  I  resided  a  short  time  in  the  county  of 
Campbell.  Near  my  residence  was  a  haunted  spot,  which  most 
persons  passed  with  dread  in  the  dark.  It  was  known  that  a 
timid  man  was  to  go  that  way  on  a  certain  night.  A  mischievous 
wight  determined  to  frighten  him.  He  communicated  his  pur- 
pose to  a  young  man,  who  resolved  to  play  the  same  prank  on 
him.  Quite  early,  this  latter  trickster  was  at  the  haunted  place, 
wrapped  in  a  sheet,  and  carefully  concealed.  In  due  time  the 
other  mischievous  fellow,  in  ghostly  garb,  took  his  position.  Soon 
the  unsuspecting,  but  faint-hearted  passenger  made  his  appear- 
ance ;  and,  frightened  by  what  he  supposed  to  be  a  ghost,  took  to 
his  heels,  with  the  ghost  in  pursuit.  At  the  proper  moment 
ghost  No.  2  joined  in  the  chase.  The  scene  became  intensely 
exciting.  The  foremost  ghost,  alarmed  in  turn,  cried  to  the 
object  of  his  pursuit:  "Stop,  Dick!  stop,  Dick!  I  am  not 
Plunket "  (the  name  of  the  man  whose  ghost  was  supposed  to 
haunt  the  place),  "  but  here  he  is  behind  me."  It  was  a  great 
relief  when  it  was  discovered  that  the  supposed  ghosts  were  mis- 
chievous spirits,  clothed  with  flesh  and  blood. 

In  speaking  of  the  asceticism  so  common  in  his 
youth,  Dr.  Jeter  furnishes  an  insight  into  the  diffi- 
culties which  stood  in  the  way  of  the  conversion  of 
young  people.  It  was  then  thought  that  if  a  young 
man  became  a  Christian  he  must  extinguish  every 
trace  of  buoyancy  and  merriment  from  his  nature. 
Indeed,  it  was  a  physical  impossibility  for  vigorous 


38  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETEE,  D.D. 

and  healthy  people  to  live  the  life  which  a  false  view 
of  the  Scriptures  led  the  ministers  of  those  times  to 
prescribe  for  the  followers  of  Christ.  To  the  pres- 
ent day  the  influence  of  those  ascetic  notions  is  felt 
among  us.  The  young  shrink  from  the  gospel  as 
from  the  enemy  of  human  happiness.  It  was  much 
worse  then.  There  is  something  positively  heroic  in 
the  attempts  made  by  the  bright  and  happy-natured 
young  people  of  those  days  to  crush  out  their  very 
temperaments  in  order  to  be  pious. 

ASCETICISM. 

This  term  denotes  the  practice  of  "  undue  rigor  and  self-denial  in 
religious  things."  It  is  an  evil  peculiar  to  no  age  and  to  no  form 
of  religion.  It  has  its  origin  in  the  desire  to  substitute  for  moral 
duties  austerities  congenial  with  the  carnal  mind  ;  or  to  atone  for 
neglected  duties  by  the  performance  of  works  of  supererogation. 
It  gave  birth  to  monasticism,  with  its  multiplied  evils,  among 
Koman  Catholics.  Its  mischiefs,  however,  are  by  no  means  limited 
to  them.  There  are  few  Christian  sects  whose  views  and  lives  are 
not,  more  or  less,  influenced  by  it. 

In  my  boyhood  days  ascetic  notions  were  quite  prevalent  in  all 
the  Christian  denominations  around  me.  The  Methodists  were 
specially  strict  in  their  religious  discipline.  Their  female  mem- 
bers were  rigidly  forbidden  to  adorn  themselves,  with  jewelry, 
bows,  ribbons  or  curls.  Their  simple  style  of  dress  was,  as  I  then 
thought,  and  as  I  still  think,  becoming  and  beautiful.  The  evil 
referred  to  lay  not  in  the  simplicity  of  their  dress,  but  in  its  en- 
forcement as  a  duty.  Men,  for  drunkenness,  dishonesty  or  other 
vices,  might  be  tenderly  dealt  with  and  pardoned  ;  but  woe  to  the 
thoughtless  damsel  who  ventured  to  deck  herself  with  rings,  or 
curls,  or  plumes,  or  to  engage  in  the  giddy  dance.  Nothing  could 
save  her  from  excommunication  and  disgrace,  except  the  most 
penitent  confession  and  the  most  solemn  promise  to  abstain  in 
future  from  these  ungodly  practices. 

Before  I  reached  maturity  a  young  Methodist  preacher    of 


HIS  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  SURROUNDINGS.  39 

respectable  family  and  of  fine  promise  was  stationed  in  the  town 
of  Lynchburg.  A  great  revival  took  place  under  his  ministry, 
and  many  were  added  to  his  church.  A  writer,  in  a  paper  of  the 
town,  gave  a  glowing  description  of  the  labors  and  success  of  the 
young  pastor.  Among  other  things  which  he  preached,  it  was 
stated  that  he  told  the  people:  "  Except  ye  wear  your  hair  straight, 
ye  cannot  be  saved."  Whether  the  remarks  of  the  evangelist  were 
fairly  reported,  I  cannot  say.  This  much,  however,  I  may  confi- 
dently affirm:  The  oracular  remark  created  no  surprise;  but  was 
rather  received  as  a  proof  of  the  sanctity  and  fidelity  of  the 
young  minister.  A  man  so  strict  in  matters  of  fashion,  it  was  in- 
ferred, could  not  be  neglectful  of  "judgment,  mercy  and  the 
weightier  matters  of  the  law." 

Baptists,  less  rigorous  than  Methodists  in  their  notions  of  relig- 
ious duties,  were  quite  ascetic  in  their  practice  and  discipline. 
They  were  lax  enough  in  regard  to  morals,  but  severely  intolerant 
of  what  were  called  worldly  pleasures.  These  were  from  the  devil, 
and  led  straight  to  perdition.  On  becoming  a  Baptist,  one  was 
expected  to  renounce  the  pleasures  of  the  world — not  only  dancing, 
but  all  games,  sports  and  amusements — and  to  be  grave,  avoiding 
mirth  and  frivolity.  This  rule  was  not  rigidly  enforced,  but  its 
observance  was  deemed  essential  to  high  Christian  character,  and 
peculiarly  necessary  to  ministers  of  the  gospel. 

I  have  stated  the  ascetic  notions  of  the  times  mainly  for  the 
purpose  of  showing  their  influence  on  my  own  life.  In  that  day 
it  was  customary  for  young  men  to  wear  their  hair  curled  on 
their  foreheads,  an  adornment  secured,  in  most  cases,  by  the  use 
of  pomatum.  In  the  commencement  of  my  religious  course  I 
combed  my  hair  straight,  thus  bringing  myself  within  the  possi- 
bility of  salvation  as  taught  by  the  Lynchburg  divine.  My  com- 
pliance with  this  rule  was  easy,  as  my  hair  was  naturally  straight. 
All  amusements  I  abandoned  at  once,  and  without  difficulty,  as  I 
had  little  opportunity,  and  less  inclination,  to  indulge  in  them. 
There  was  one  duty  which  I  did  not  find  it  so  easy  to  practice. 
Laughing  was  deemed,  if  not  sinful,  at  least  quite  unbecoming 
for  a  Christian,  and  especially  a  preacher.  In  this  view  I  con- 
curred. Living  in  a  world  filled  with  sin  and  cursed  of  God, 
with  thousands  passing  daily  to  perdition,  it  appeared  to  me  most 


40  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETEB,  D.D. 

inappropriate  that  I  should  indulge  in  mirth.  This  view  seemed 
to  be  confirmed  by  the  fact  that,  so  far  as  the  Scriptures  teach, 
"  Jesus  wept,  but  never  laughed."  The  duty  seemed  clear,  but  its 
observance  was  quite  uncongenial  with  my  temperament.  This 
was  vivacious,  cheerful  and  strongly  inclined  to  mirth.  I  resolved, 
however,  to  maintain  my  gravity.  For  a  time  I  succeeded  well. 
Not  a  laugh  escaped  from  my  lips,  and  scarcely  a  smile  lightened 
my  countenance.  At  length,  however,  some  amusing  thing  was 
said  or  done  that  upset  my  gravity,  and  my  laughter  was  all  the 
more  convulsive  and  vociferous  because  of  the  long-continued 
restraint  that  I  had  imposed  upon  it. 

This  untimely  and  sinful  outburst  of  mirth  was  followed  by  a 
season  of  gloom,  confession,  penitence,  tears,  prayer  and  earnest 
resolution  not  to  be  overtaken  again  with  the  fault.  For  some 
time  I  carefully  watched  against  my  besetting  sin,  and  maintained 
an  unbroken  'solemnity  of  countenance.  It  was  not  long,  how- 
ever, before,  in  an  unguarded  moment,  some  facetious  remark  or 
ludicrous  event  overcame  my  resolution,  and  threw  me  into  a 
paroxysm  of  laughter,  to  be  followed  by  another  season  of  humil- 
iation, sorrow  and  promised  amendment. 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE  SCHOOL  BOY  AND  HIS  SCHOOLS. 

DR.  DANIEL  WITT,  in  his  Autobiography,  gives 
a  charming  account  of  his  first  meeting  with 
J.  B.  Jeter  in  1821.  His  description  is  a  poem, 
in  which  he  celebrates  the  birth  of  the  friendship 
which  at  that  time  sprang  up  between  himself  and 
Jeter,  and  which  grew  in  trustfulness  and  devotion 
until  they  were  put  asunder  by  death.  Of  that 
memorable  intimacy  I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak 
in  a  later  chapter ;  but  I  refer  to  the  subject  at  this 
time,  simply  to  recall  the  first  impressions  which 
these  two  mountain  boys  made  upon  each  other. 

Jeter  was,  at  that  time,  nineteen  years  of  age — a 
rude  farmer  boy,  tall  and  slender  in  form,  awkward 
in  manners  and  clad  in  homespun ;  but  the  obser- 
vant Witt  detected  in  him  the  marks  of  unusual 
power.  He  tells  us  that  he  "  was  full  of  fire  and 
enthusiasm,  and  that  in  point  of  general  informa- 
tion, and  in  force  of  native  intellect  he  seemed  to  be 
far  in  advance  of  the  boys  with  whom  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  associating." 

Dr.  Jeter,  in  referring  to  the  same  event,  mentions 
an  amusing  little  incident  which  first  excited  his 
interest  in  Daniel  Witt.     "  I  remember  definitely," 

41 


42  LI*1  E  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

he  says,  "  that  my  attention  was  drawn  to  him,  and 
my  desire  to  cultivate  his  acquaintance  was  awak- 
ened by  hearing  him  use  the  word  '  circuitous.'  It 
did  not  belong  to  the  vocabulary  of  the  plain  rural 
people  with  whom  I  lived.  Its  use  indicated  a  de- 
gree of  mental  culture  above  that  of  my  neighbors, 
and  as  I  had  a  strong  aspiration  for  knowledge,  I 
immediately  sought  his  society." 

In  this  simple  paragraph  we  have  revealed  to  us 
the  youthful  Jeter.  There  was  in  him  a  mind  hun- 
gry for  knowledge,  and  unconsciously  yearning  for 
intellectual  sympathy.  In  the  circle  of  his  kindred 
and  neighbors  he  had  not  found  such  companion- 
ship as  met  the  cravings  of  his  burning  and  restless 
nature. 

When  by  chance  a  kindred  spirit  crossed  his  path, 
he  opened  wide  his  arms,  and  took  him  to  his  heart. 
There  is  nothing  more  interesting  than  the  fellow- 
ship of  kindred  minds,  and  we  can  readily  under- 
stand how  it  came  to  pass  that  these  two  young 
men,  until  then  unknown  to  each  other,  should 
so  speedily  link  themselves  together  in  friend- 
ship. They  had  their  respective  associates,  but 
they  were  both  superior  to  those  upon  whom  they 
had  been  dependent  for  society,  and  when  they 
came  together,  they  found  at  once  a  basis  for  equality 
and  mutual  respect.  They  touched  each  other  with 
their  intellectual  elbows,  and  found  it  pleasant  to 
walk  in  company.  Their  thirst  for  knowledge,  so 
strong  in  both,  made  them  brothers. 

I  have  sometimes  thought  that  the  most  wonderful 
feature  in  Dr.  Jeter's  character  was  his  interest  and 


THE  SCHOOL  BOY  AND  HIS  SCHOOLS.  43 

independent  longing  after  knowledge.  His  mind 
seemed  to  be  perpetually  on  the  alert. 

His  enthusiasm  in  study  was  as  fresh  and  eager 
when  he  was  seventy-five  years  of  age  as  it  could 
possibly  have  been  at  any  other  point  in  his  life. 
His  mind  was  sharp,  penetrating  and  inquisitive. 
New  questions  always  excited  his  profoundest  in- 
terest; and  when  once  he  became  absorbed  in  the 
pursuit  of  information,  it  was  hard  to  stop  him.  He 
would  consult  experts,  ransack  libraries  and  vex  his 
own  brain  until  he  had  reached  his  conclusions.  I 
know  that  he  was  thoroughly  reverent  in  dealing 
with  truth ;  but  he  was  sometimes  so  outspoken  in 
his  doubts,  and  so  persistent  in  his  inquiries,  that 
timid  people  became  alarmed,  lest  in  his  impetu- 
ous pursuit  he  would  trample  the  truth  beneath  his 
feet. 

This  much  I  have  ventured  to  say  before  inviting 
the  reader  to  go  back  with  me  to  his  childhood,  and 
study  his  character  as  a  school-boy.  Almost  from 
his  cradle  he  was  known  as  the  question-asker.  He 
was  a  perplexing  member  of  his  household.  He  had 
a  way  of  propounding  conundrums  of  his  own  in- 
vention which  no  member  of  the  family  could  un- 
ravel. His  curiosity  was  so  sincere  and  insatiable 
that  it  was  impossible  to  keep  him  down.  If  a 
neighbor  dropped  in  for  the  evening,  and  fell  into 
easy  chat  with  the  family,  this  little  white-haired 
urchin  was  not  only  a  greedy  listener,  but  if  any 
point  was  left  unsettled,  he  sprang  eagerly  into  the 
arena,  and  opened  a  volley  of  questions.  When 
strangers  appeared  with  anything  singular  in  their 


44  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

garb  or  manner,  he  was  quick  to  observe  it,  and  he 
had  no  rule  in  the  code  of  his  etiquette  which  re- 
strained him  from  demanding  an  explanation.  Some 
persons  considered  him  offensively  pert,  and  wofully 
lacking  in  good  manners.  They  did  not  fancy  the 
idea  of  being  cornered  by  such  a  self-asserting  young- 
ster, and  transfixed  with  questions  which  they  knew 
not  how  to  answer.  But  they  did  the  little  fellow 
injustice.  He  had  no  thought  of  making  himself 
disagreeable.  He  was  not  attempting  to  show  off 
his  own  smartness  to  the  disadvantage  of  others. 
It  never  crossed  his  mind  that  there  could  be  any 
harm  or  impoliteness  in  trying  to  find  out  something 
that  he  did  not  know.  As  a  fact,  it  was  impossible 
for  him  not  to  ask  questions.  Thirst  for  knowledge 
was  his  master  passion,  and  it  pervaded  his  entire 
personality.  It  was  a  fire  in  his  bones,  consuming 
him  day  and  night,  and  he  knew  not  how  to  suppress 
it.  For  him  to  see  a  thing,  was  to  begin  to  think 
about  it.  If  he  did  not  understand  it,  he  looked  at 
it,  walked  around  it,  touched  it  and  thought  of  it  un- 
til he  settled  down  into  some  opinion  which  for  the 
time  at  least  satisfied  him.  When  not  talking  he 
was  thinking,  and  when  not  thinking,  he  was  dream- 
ing. 

Such  was  the  child  when  the  time  came  for  him  to 
be  sent  to  school.  He  was  then  seven  years  old,  a 
slender,  blue-eyed,  clumsy  boy.  His  father  was  an 
overseer  for  General  Preston  in  the  western  part  of 
Montgomery  County,  and  the  boy  was  sent  to  Peter 
Burns,  who  was  employed  to  teach  in  the  Preston 
family.    What  manner  of  child  he  then  was  we  can 


THE  SCHOOL  BOY  AND  HIS  SCHOOLS.  45 

best  learn  from  his  subsequent  writings.  I  present 
here  some  extracts  from  his  "  Childish  Philosophy," 
an  account  of  which  is  found  in  his  "  Recollections  of 
a  Long  Life,"  which  he  published  a  few  years  be- 
fore his  death  in  the  Religious  Herald : 

CHILDISH   PHILOSOPHY. 

From  the  earliest  period  of  my  recollection  my  mind  was  given, 
as  I  suppose  from  instinct,  to  speculating  on  the  nature  and  causes 
of  phenomena  which  I  saw  around  me.  I  do  not  know  that  my 
thoughts  on  these  subjects  differed  materially  from  those  of  other 
children ;  but  I  write  some  of  them  to  afford  an  opportunity  for 
comparison. 

I  early  adopted  a  rain-theory.  The  clouds,  I  supposed,  were 
made  of  tin,  or  some  similar  metal,  filled  with  water  and  perfo- 
rated with  small  holes — after  the  manner  of  a  watering-pot,  which 
then  I  had  never  seen — each  hole  was  stopped  with  a  small  peg, 
to  each  peg  a  long  string  was  tied,  the  great  man  of  the  skies  held 
every  string  in  his  hand,  and,  when  he  wished  it  to  rain,  he  jerked 
the  strings,  drew  out  the  pegs,  and  down  came  the  rain.  The 
theory  seemed  to  me  to  be  not  only  plausible,  but  the  only  one 
that  could  be  formed.  I  was  as  firmly  convinced  of  its  truth  as 
is  Elder  John  Jasper  that  "the  sun  do  move."  How  the  clouds 
were  filled  with  water,  or  how  the  pegs,  once  drawn  from  them, 
were  restored  to  their  holes,  were  questions  which  did  not  enter 
into  my  juvenile  philosophy. 

I  had  quite  an  early  and  well-defined  system  of  cosmogony. 
The  world  I  believed  to  be  flat,  with  such  inequalities  as  I  observed 
on  its  surface ;  and,  residing  in  sight  of  the  Peaks  of  Otter,  these 
did  not  seem  to  be  inconsiderable.  I  was  fully  convinced,  by 
what  appeared  to  me  to  be  conclusive  reasoning,  that  the  earth 
floated  on  water.  It  must  rest  on  something ;  for  all  my  obser- 
vations satisfied  me  that  nothing  could  stand  without  a  founda- 
tion. That  the  world  was  supported  by  water,  there  were  two 
decisive  proofs.  One  was  that,  by  traveling  a  certain  distance  in 
any  direction,  the  end  of  the  land  was  reached  and  the  water  on 
which  it  floated  was  seen;  and  the  other  was  that,  by  digging 
wells  in  the  earth  the  water,  on  which  it  rested,  was  found.  What 


46  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

supported  the  water  was  a  question  that  never  entered  my  juven- 
ile brain.  The  intelligent  reader  will  perceive  the  striking  re- 
semblance between  my  childish  theory  and  the  Hindoo  cosmogony 
— that  the  earth  rests  on  the  backs  of  elephants — the  elephants 
stand  on  turtles — the  turtles  swim  in  water — and  below  the  water 
there  is  mist  down  to  the  bottom. 

One  thing  greatly  surprised  me.  It  was  that  my  father's 
house  had  happened  to  be  set  precisely  in  the  middle  of  the  world. 
That  it  was,  I  had  the  most  conclusive  evidence.  The  horizon, 
which  I  conceived  to  be  the  end  of  the  world,  was  equidistant 
from  my  home  in  every  direction.  I  supposed  that  its  favorable 
location  was  simply  accidental,  and  that  no  other  house  in  all 
the  world  occupied  a  similar  position. 

The  most  incomprehensible  mystery  to  my  boyish  intellect  was 
the  shoeing  of  a  horse.  For  that  my  philosophy  could  find  no 
satisfactory  explanation.  I  saw  that  a  horse  stood  firmly  on  the 
ground  with  his  four  feet.  How  a  shoe  could  be  nailed  on  his 
foot,  while  in  this  position,  I  could  not  conceive.  It  seemed 
equally  impossible  to  perform  the  operation  from  above  or 
from  beneath.  I  came  to  the  deliberate  conclusion  that  the 
horse's  foot  was  cut  off,  the  shoe  nailed  on,  and  the  foot  restored 
to  its  place.  This  theory  was  the  best  that  I  could  devise ;  but 
it  did  not  quite  satify  my  mind.  It  was  a  mystery  to  me  that 
the  operation  could  be  performed  without  inflicting  a  wound  or 
leaving  a  scar  on  the  horse. 

The  thoughtful  reader  will  be  struck  with  the  fact  that  many 
of  the  theories,  discoveries  and  pretensions  of  the  scientists  and 
philosophers  of  past  ages  were  quite  as  puerile  as  my  childish  spec- 
ulations. It  has  been  their  chief  labor  in  each  successive  gener- 
ation to  overthrow  the  theories  of  their  .predecessors.  Many 
notions,  popular  in  past  ages,  seem  now  to  be  ridiculous.  Modern 
scientists  claim  to  have  passed  far  beyond  the  ancients  in  their 
researches  and  discoveries.  Probably  they  have;  and  yet  it  is 
not  unlikely  that  the  time  may  come' when  many  of  their  notions, 
falsely  called  science,  will  be  regarded  as  the  wild  conceits  of  dis- 
tempered brains. 

It  is  not  easy  to  restrain  a  smile,  as  we  read  some 
of  these   childish    speculations.     At  the  first  blush 


THE  SCHOOL  BOY  AND  HIS  SCHOOLS.  47 

they  strike  us  as  odd  and  illogical,  and  we  are  al- 
most ready  to  conclude  that  their  author  was  an  idle 
dreamer,  and  stupid  beyond  redemption.  But  not  so. 
Let  us  remember  where  and  what  the  boy  was  at  the 
time  he  was  indulging  these  ruminations.  He  did 
not  dwell  in  some  beautiful  city  home,  abounding  in 
choice  books,  pictures  and  other  helps  for  his  intel- 
lectual quickening.  In  years  he  was  only  a  child, 
and  he  was  as  one  walking  in  the  darkness.  His  feet 
were  upon  a  new  path,  and  he  had  no  one  to  hold  his 
hand  and  lead  him.  He  could  not  have  been  much 
more  severely  alone  if  he  had  been  the  only  child  in 
the  community.  In  his  "  Childish  Philosophy  "  he 
records  his  first  experiments  in  original  thinking. 
He  undertook  to  deal  with  really  profound  problems, 
concerning  which  he  knew  next  to  nothing.  He  was 
a  reasoner,  but  with  the  disadvantage  of  being  with- 
out adequate  premises.  In  the  fact  that  he  grappled 
such  grave  questions,  and  sought  to  master  them,  he 
evinced  the  vigor  and  intrepidity  of  his  mind,  even 
at  that  early  point  in  his  life. 

It  is  pleasant  to  look  upon  the  glowing  face  of 
such  a  boy.  We  instinctively  feel  that  he  is  one 
of  a  thousand,  and  not  destined  to  company  with 
the  common  herd.  In  the  tumult  of  his  childish 
thoughts  there  was  the  prophecy  of  his  great- 
ness. It  pointed  to  a  world  of  latent  forces  enfolded 
within  him,  and  already  clamorous  to  come  forth.  It 
foreshadowed  that  strength  which,  in  after-years, 
bore  him  upward  to  the  heights  on  which  God  had 
chosen  him  to  walk.  It  seems  a  grim  Providence  in- 
deed that  a  youth  of  such  imperial  endowments,  and 


48  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

so  pervaded  with  lofty  aspirations,  should  have  been 
hedged  about  with  such  appalling  obstacles.  We 
see  around  us  many  schools  crowded  with  boys  that 
have  neither  capacity  nor  ambition  for  learning.  Par- 
ents lavish  their  treasures  in  efforts  to  educate  sons 
who  are  so  ignoble  in  their  ambition,  and  so  mean  in 
their  tastes,  that  they  idly  cast  away  the  priceless 
blessing  thus  brought  within  reach.  I  am  reminded 
of  the  remark  recently  made  by  a  friend  of  liberal 
education,  that  he  was  often  called  to  gaze  upon  a 
revolting  spectacle.  He  said  that  those  young  men 
who  have  the  privilege  of  obtaining  a  liberal  educa- 
tion seem  to  spurn  their  opportunity,  while  those 
who,  above  all  things,  yearned  after  knowledge,  had 
not  the  means  of  securing  it.  This  often  seems  to  be 
the  case.  In  almost  every  neighborhood  there  can 
be  found  some  generously-endowed  youth  longing  for 
an  education,  and  yet  apparently  shut  off  from  it  by 
the  inexorable  decree  of  Heaven. 

If  we  turn  for  a  moment  to  the  condition  of  Jeter, 
in  his  early  youth,  we  can  find  nothing  in  his  circum- 
stances which  gave  promise  of  a  bright  future.  We  are 
painfully  touched  by  the  seeming  harshness  of  his 
lot.  His  father  was  visionary  and  neglectful  of  his 
family's  comfort.  When  yet  of  very  tender  years  the 
boy  was  forced  into  the  field  to  aid  in  making  bread 
for  the  family.  He  could  not  attend  school  during 
the  cropping  seasons,  and  had  to  take  his  chances  dur- 
ing; the  short  davs  of  winter.  The  weather  was  often 
rigorous,  the  school-houses  were  always  uncomforta- 
ble and  sometimes  situated  at  long  distances,  and  his 
lessons  at  home  were  not  studied  under  the  light  of 


THE  SCHOOL  BOY  AND  HIS  SCHOOLS.  49 

gas  or  oil,  but  by  the  uncertain  flame  of  the  log-fire 
or  the  lightwood's  torch.  Besides,  the  text-books 
used  in  those  far-away  days  were  few,  costly  and  very 
imperfect.  To  all  the  other  drawbacks  must  be  added 
the  inefficiency  of  the  teachers.  In  those  times  it 
was  supposed  that  only  indolent  and  thriftless  men 
ever  taught  school.  Among  the  sturdy  tillers  of  the 
soil  there  lurked  a  very  deep  suspicion  that  when  a 
man  set  up  as  a  school-teacher  it  was  because  he  had 
not  sufficient  energy  to  enter  more  active  pursuits. 
There  were  no  examining  boards  to  sit  in  judgment 
upon  the  qualifications  of  those  who  undertook  to 
teach.  Few  parents  had  sufficient  intelligence  to  es- 
timate the  intellectual  calibre  of  those  who  asked  for 
their  patronage.  Men  who  were  in  that  line  of  bus- 
iness frequently  entered  a  neighborhood  on  their  own 
account,  and,  by  beating  around  among  the  people, 
"  made  up  the  schools,"  of  which  they  were  the  sole 
managers.  I  would  not  reflect  upon  the  school-mas- 
ter of  the  former  times.  He  was  a  pioneer,  and  if  he 
did  not  do  the  best  work,  it  was  due,  in  part,  to  the 
fact  that  he  had  not  received  the  best  preparation. 
I  will  presently  permit  Dr.  Jeter  to  speak  in  his 
own  terms  of  the  teachers  at  whose  feet  he  sat, 
and  from  whom  he  received  the  scanty  training 
with  which  he  entered  life ;  but  it  seems  proper  here 
to  say  that  his  history  ought  to  be  full  of  cheer 
and  happy  encouragement  to  the  poor  youth  of  our 
land. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  they  sometimes  chafe  and 
murmur  under  the  bondage  of  their  poverty.     They 
read  of  the  colleges  and  universities,  and  imagine  that 
4 


50  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

if  they  could  share  their  advantages,  they  would  have 
an  easy  march  to  distinction  and  usefulness.  That 
may  be  so,  or  it  may  not.  After  all,  it  is  very  large- 
ly what  is  in  a  young  man — his  gifts,  his  patience 
and  his  resoluteness — which  fixes  his  destiny.  With- 
out these  a  college  can  confer  no  great  blessings  upon 
him,  and  with  these  he  may  rise  to  honor,  even 
though  he  may  never  enter  a  college.  His  progress 
may  be  slow  and  painful,  but  in  a  lifetime  he  can 
climb  to  wonderful  heights.  It  was  Dr.  Jeter's  pur- 
pose to  "  do  his  very  best,"  which  led  him  through 
the  old  field  schools  of  Bedford,  and  then  outward 
and  upward  along  the  way  of  knowledge,  until  he 
had  attained  such  a  rank  in  life  that  colleges,  which 
had  never  helped  him,  were  glad  to  honor  him. 

We  now  present  to  the  reader  Dr.  Jeter's  account 
of  his  schools  and  teachers, — 

Bedford  is  a  Virginia  County,  lying  between  the  James  and 
Staunton  Rivers,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  Blue  Ridge.  The 
celebrated  Otter  Peaks  are  on  the  northwestern  border  of  the 
county.  It  is  distinguished  for  the  number,  ability  and  useful- 
ness of  the  ministers  of  the  leading  evangelical  denominations  who 
have  been  reared  within  its  limits.  At  the  house  of  my  maternal 
grandfather,  Jeremiah  Hatcher,  and  in  full  view  of  the  towering 
mountains,  my  eyes  first  saw  the  light.  My  early  recollections 
relate  chiefly  to  events  and  scenes  in  this  old  and  respectable  county. 

I  pass  over  many  of  my  childhood  memories,  Avhich,  however 
interesting  they  might  be  to  the  young,  are  hardly  compatible 
with  the  design  and  gravity  of  my  articles.  It  may  be  proper, 
however,  to  notice  the  educational  advantages  enjoyed  in  the 
county,  especially  that  part  of  it  in  which  I  was  reared,  the 
Fork  of  Otter,  in  the  days  of  my  boyhood.  The  school-houses 
were  of  a  primitive  style  of  architecture,  bearing  a  very  slight 
resemblance  to  the  Doric,  Grecian  or  Roman  order.     They  were 


THE  SCHOOL  BOY  AND  HIS  SCHOOLS.  51 

constructed  of  logs,  notched  at  the  corners,  daubed  with  clay, 
covered  with  boards,  kept  in  their  position  by  weighty  poles  laid 
across  them,  and  lighted,  not  by  glass,  but  through  an  aperture 
between  the  logs,  at  a  convenient  height,  which  might  be  closed  for 
comfort  by  a  plank  susj>ended  above  it  on  leather  hinges.  They 
had  wide  chimneys.  Those  who  have  seen  them  need  no  descrip- 
tion of  them  ;  and  to  those  who  have  not  seen  them,  no  descrip- 
tion could  impart  any  just  conception  of  them.  These  houses 
were  furnished  with  benches,  without  backs,  on  each  of  which  a 
dozen  or  more  pupils  might  sit,  in  close  contact.  A  chair  and  a 
table  for  the  teacher,  with  one  or  more  good  rods,  completed  the 
furniture  of  the  school-room. 

The  teachers  were  in  admirable  correspondence  with  their 
school-houses.  Persons  too  lazy  to  work  and  unfit  for  other 
profitable  employments  were  usually  engaged  as  pedagogues. 
School-books  were  scarce,  but  of  divers  kinds.  Dilworth's  spell- 
ing-book had  gone  out  of  print,  but  many  copies  of  it  were  in  ex- 
istence, having  been  used  and  preserved  by  the  parents,  and  pos- 
sibly the  grandparents  of  the  pupils.  Highly  favored  were  the 
children  who  owned  Webster's  spelling-book,  then  just  coming  into 
use.  For  reading,  every  pupil  brought  to  the  school  such  book 
or  books  as  were  found  in  his  family — they  might  be  the  Columbian 
Orator,  Scott's  Lessons,  the  Arabian  Nights,  Robinson  Crusoe,  the 
Bible  or  fragments  of  it,  or  anything  else  in  print,  historical  or 
fictitious,  didactic  or  heroic,  solemn  or  amusing.  This  diversity 
in  school-books  was  not  so  inconvenient  as  a  modern  teacher  might 
suppose.  Schools  were  not  divided  into  classes,  but  every  pupil 
"  said  "  or  read  his  own  lesson.  A  slate  and  pencil,  with  paper 
and  ink  for  the  advanced  students,  completed  the  outfit  for 
an  education  in  the  "  Old  Field  Schools."  In  most  of  them 
neither  a  dictionary,  a  grammar,  nor  an  arithmetic  could  be 
found. 

This  outfit,  meagre  as  it  was,  was  quite  equal  to  the  demands  of 
the  curriculum,  comprehending  only  reading,  writing  and  cipher- 
ing as  "  far  as  the  rule  of  three."  This  last  art  was  taught  by 
means  of  a  manuscript  book  belonging  to  the  teacher,  in  which  the 
arithmetical  questions  were  not  only  propounded,  but  the  process 
of  their  solution  was  fully  recorded  in  figures.     From  this  source 


52  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

the  pupils  received  their  sums,  and  to  this  standard  it  was  required 
that  their  answers  should  conform.  Boys,  after  toiling  days  or 
weeks  over  a  sum  in  long  division,  would  go  up  to  the  teacher  to 
report  their  answer,  and  to  hear  the  appalling  words  :  "  Not  right." 
They  would  then  have  to  go  over  the  tedious  and  perplexing  cal- 
culation, with  the  probability  of  arriving  at  a  similar  result.  One 
poor  fellow  labored  three  months  at  a  single  sum. 

The  rod  bore  an  important  part  in  the  discipline  of  these  primi- 
tive schools.  Fortunately  or  unfortunately,  the  forests  furnished 
switches  which,  for  toughness  and  punitive  power,  threw  into  the 
shade  the  far-famed  birchen  rod.  The  virtues  of  the  hickory  were 
well  understood  by  all  the  disciplinarians  of  the  school-room  ;  and 
its  penal  application  was  held  in  extreme  horror  by  all  the  unruly 
urchins  of  the  region.  It  was  employed  with  more  or  less  freedom 
and  severity,  according  to  the  temper  and  views  of  the  pedagogue. 
Some  irascible  teachers  used  it,  occasionally,  at  least,  with  unques- 
tionable cruelty  ;  while  others  employed  it  to  terrify  rather  than 
to  punish.  Castigation  was  inflicted  usually  by  retail;  but  in 
some  cases  by  wholesale.  One  teacher  frequently  flogged  his  pupils 
by  the  bench.  Ten  or  a  dozen  were  called  up  at  once,  and  each 
received  his  share  of  the  whipping.  The  punishment  was  not 
severe.  While  those  at  the  head  of  the  line  were  receiving  their 
stripes,  those  at  the  other  end  were  sniggering ;  and  by  the  time 
the  infliction  was  ended  all  were  in  a  glee. 

It  is  time  to  inquire  after  the  attainments  of  the  pupils  in  these 
plain,  rural  schools.  Of  course,  they  did  not  learn  much.  If 
most  of  the  teachers  had  ever  heard  of  accent  or  emphasis,  they 
furnished  to  their  scholars  no  proof  of  their  knowledge.  Of 
puuctuation,  they  had  some  vague  conception.  He  was  deemed 
the  greatest  proficient  in  reading  who  could  read  the  fastest. 
The  teacher  would  often  call  out  to  the  pupil,  reading  with 
breathless  velocity :  "  Mind  your  stops ! "  and  the  teaching  in 
punctuation  was  limited  to  this  stern  command.  Spelling  was 
the  only  branch  of  learning  cultivated  successfully  in  these 
schools.  The  pupils  spelled  in  classes,  the  best  spellers  ascending 
to  the  head,  and  the  worst  descending  to  the  foot,  of  the  class. 
By  this  means  an  emulation  was  excited  among  them,  which 
made  them  quite  ready  in  spelling  the  words  found  in  their 
meagre  school  vocabulary. 


THE  SCHOOL  BOY  AND  HIS  SCHOOLS.  53 

All  the  schools  in  the  county  were  not  alike.  A  grammar 
school  was  taught,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Liberty,  the  metropolis 
of  the  county,  by  a  Mr.  Flood,  which  had  quite  a  local  reputa- 
tion for  the  thoroughness  of  its  instruction.  In  this  school  my 
lamented  friend,  the  late  Dr.  D.  Witt,  had  the  good  fortune  to 
be  taught.  Considerable  improvement  was  made,  during  my 
school-days,  in  the  quality  of  the  teaching  in  the  schools.  In 
some  cases,  what  was  lacking  in  merit  was  made  up  in  pretension. 
One  teacher  proposed  to  give  instruction,  not  only  in  the  common 
branches  of  learning,  but  in  the  English  grammar  and  in  "  the 
arts  and  sciences "  as  well.  As  his  capacity  for  instruction  in 
these  branches  was  not  in  requisition  in  the  school,  I  never  knew, 
and  cannot  now  conjecture,  what  "  arts  and  sciences "  he  pro- 
posed to  teach.  I  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  his  instruction  in 
grammar.  I  was  taught  to  commit  the  large  print  in  Murray's 
grammar  to  memory — from  which  attainment  I  afterwards  derived 
great  benefit ;  but  if  the  teacher  ever  uttered  a  sentence  which 
gave  any  intimation  of  his  acquaintance  with  the  design  of  gram- 
mar, I  have  no  recollection  of  it,  and  think  that  if  he  had,  I 
should  remember  it. 

To  one  of  my  teachers,  Lewis  Parker,  I  was  under  great  obli- 
gation. He  was  a  poor  young  man,  reared  in  the  county.  His 
opportunities  for  acquiring  an  education  had  been  meagre,  and 
his  literary  attainments  were  small,  but  he  was  conscious  of  his 
deficiency  in  learning,  thirsted  for  knowledge,  and  labored  earn- 
estly to  instruct  his  pupils.  He  had  Walker's  Pronouncing  Dic- 
tionary in  his  school,  and  paid  attention  to  accent,  emphasis  and 
punctuation  in  his  instruction.  I  was  greatly  indebted  to  him 
for  his  tuition  ;  and  have  long  lamented  that  his  early  death 
prevented  me  from  making  this  acknowledgment  to  him. 

"  There  is  no  royal  road  to  learning."  Certainly  no  such 
road  led  through  the  Bedford  schools  in  my  boyhood  days.  We 
sat  on  no  cushioned  seats,  handled  no  gilt-bound  volumes,  received 
no  tempting  premiums  and  feasted  on  no  dainty  luncheons. 
Going  to  school  was  no  holiday  procession,  but  a  stern  reality. 
Many  of  the  pupils  walked  three  or  four  miles,  over  stony  paths, 
bare-footed,  to  reach  the  schools.  In  winter  the  attendance  was 
larger  than  in  the  summer,  because   more   boys  could  then  be 


54         LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

spared  from  the  labors  of  the  farm.  The  worse  the  day  the 
larger  the  school,  as  the  greater  number  of  children  were  released 
from  home  services.  The  pupils  had  invariably  to  cut  in  the 
forests,  and  bear  on  their  shoulders,  the  fuel  by  which  their 
school-rooms  were  warmed. 

This  system  of  education  had  its  advantages. 

"  Its  studies  turned  no  student  pale, 
But  took  the  eel  of  science  by  the  tail." 

If  it  did  not  make  scholars,  it  made  vigorous,  self-reliant  men 
and  women.  In  those  days  and  in  that  region,  neuralgia  had 
never  been  heard  of.  The  girls  and  boys  knew  what  hunger 
meant,  but  were  strangers  to  dyspepsia.  They  had  muscles,  if  they 
had  not  refinement.  They  had  brains,  too,  healthy,  well-devel- 
oped brains ;  and  though,  in  general,  there  was  not  much  in  them, 
they  were  capable  of  thinking  and  of  indefinite  improvement. 

Nor  was  this  all.  The  art  of  reading  lies  at  the  foundation  of 
all  learning.  The  man  who  can  read  has  access  to  all  the 
treasures  of  history,  science  and  philosophy ;  can  revel  amid  all 
the  charms  of  fiction  and  poetry ;  and  can  master  all  the  in- 
tricacies of  statesmanship,  and  all  the  secrets  of  professional 
knowledge.  His  learning  must  be  acquired  with  greater  toil 
and  with  slower  progress  than  if  he  had  received  early  and 
thorough  educational  training ;  but  when  he  reaches  it,  he  may 
have  it  all  the  more  perfectly  at  his  command  because  of  the 
perplexities  through  which  he  acquired  it. 

Not  all  the  Bedford  boys  of  the  olden  time  became  distin- 
guished. In  the  best-taught  and  best-regulated  schools  only  a 
small  proportion  of  the  pupils  become  scholars  or  prominent  in 
life.  Quite  a  fair  number  of  the  youth  trained  in  these  ill- 
supplied  and  ill-taught  country  schools  became  distinguished,  if 
not  for  their  learning,  at  least  for  their  good  sense,  their  practical 
wisdom  and  their  usefulness.  Some  with  their  meagre  educa- 
tional advantages,  through  long  years,  struggled  up  the  rugged 
hill  of  knowledge  to  no  mean  elevation.  Others  found  in  con- 
tiguous regions  means  of  intellectual  improvement  denied  to 
them  in  their  native  county. 


THE  SCHOOL  BOY  AND  HIS  SCHOOLS.  55 

A   SPELLING  MATCH. 

When  I  was  a  lad,  probably  ten  years  old,  there  were  two  rival 
schools  in  my  neighborhood.  The  rivalry  culminated  in  a  "Spell- 
ing Bee,"  to  adopt  a  modern  Americanism,  but  it  was  then  called 
a  spelling  match.  Reading  was  taught  in  the  schools,  with  no 
regard  to  accent  or  emphasis,  and  with  very  little  to  punctuation ; 
and  the  glibbest  reader  was  deemed  the  best.  Composition  was 
an  art  unknown ;  and  the  word  would  have  been  accounted  out- 
landish in  most  of  the  schools.  Spelling  was  the  one  branch  of 
learning  on  which  they  prided  themselves.  The  schools  above 
alluded  to  boasted  of  their  attainments  in  this  popular  exercise, 
each  claiming  to  excel  the  other.  Public  opinion  was  divided  on 
the  subject,  and  it  was  resolved  to  submit  the  question  to  the  test 
of  experiment. 

Each  school  selected  a  champion  speller.  John  Houston  was 
the  standard-bearer  of  one  school.  He  was  a  bright,  modest, 
promising  boy,  not  far  from  a  dozen  years  old.  I  was  chosen  to 
vindicate  the  honor  of  the  other  school.  I  was  larger,  but  prob- 
ably not  older  than  John,  and  certainly  was  not  less  ambitious  to 
excel  than  he  was.  We  were,  for  some  weeks,  carefully  trained 
for  our  literary  contest.     All  things  were  in  readiness  for  it. 

The  schools,  situated  four  or  five  miles  apart,  met  at  an  inter- 
mediate blacksmith-shop.  Under  the  shade  of  oaks,  rude  seats 
had  been  prepared  for  the  accommodation  of  the  schools  and  their 
friends.  Quite  an  audience  was  present,  as  the  match  had  excited 
no  little  interest  in  the  quiet,  rural  neighborhood.  Fortunately 
for  their  comfort,  the  day  was  calm,  bright  and  pleasant.  The 
boys  spelled  alternately  in  the  geographical  vocabulary  of  Noah 
Webster's  spelling-book.  Each  school  looked  with  confidence  for 
the  success  of  its  champion.  For  some  time  the  race  was  equal ; 
but  John  began  to  misspell  words  rather  frequently.  I  had  failed 
in  one  or  two,  and  he  on  six  or  eight.  His  teacher,  gazing  at  him 
with  anxious  look,  said :  "John,  you  are  falling  might'ly  behind 
the  stump  " — an  expression  then  common  in  that  region.  It  was 
the  language  of  solicitude,  and  not  of  reproof;  but  whatever 
might  have  been  the  interpretation  that  John  put  upon  it,  his 
feelings  became  uncontrollable,  and  he  burst  into  tears  and  sobs ; 
all  the  audience  sympathizing  in  his  grief,  and  none  more  sin- 


56  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

cerely  than  I.  This  ended  the  spelling  match.  I  had  triumphed, 
but  I  would  have  more  heartily  enjoyed  my  success  had  it  not 
been  associated  with  the  deep  mortification  of  my  opponent,  for 
whom  I  had  a  kind  regard.  More  than  sixty  years  have  passed 
since  the  event,  and  quite  half  a  century  since  I  saw  or  heard  of 
John  Houston.  He  has  probably  departed  from  the  land  of  the 
living  ;  but  if  he  is  still  on  earth,  it  would  afford  me  great  pleasure 
to  grasp  his  hand,  for  I  am  quite  sure,  from  the  excellent  qualities 
of  his  boyhood,  that  he  ripened  into  a  solid,  worthy  man. 

The  spelling  match  was  as  far  removed  from  gaming  as  the 
most  ascetic  moralist  could  desire.  It  was  agreed  that  if  John 
won,  his  teacher  would  give  him  a  knife ;  and  if  I  was  successful, 
my  teacher  would  give  me  one.  In  that  day,  and  in  that  region, 
where  so  little  was  contributed  to  the  enjoyment  of  boys,  the  knife 
would  have  been  to  me  a  treasure ;  but  I  never  received  it. 
Whether  my  teacher  thought  I  had  not  fairly  won  it,  or  it  would 
be  too  heavy  a  draft  on  his  meagre  resources,  or  his  memory  was 
less  tenacious  than  my  own,  it  is  needless  now  to  inquire. 

The  droll  episode  described  below  is  not  really 
connected  with  his  school-life,  but  as  it  belongs  to 
the  days  when  he  was  a  school-boy,  I  venture  to 
admit  it  at  this  point. 

FALSE   ECONOMY. 

When  I  was  eleven  years  old  my  father  resided  in  the  town  of 
Salem,  then  Botetourt,  now  Roanoke  County.  As  a  reward  or  a 
gift  I  received  four  pence  ha'penny — a  small  silver  coin,  worth 
six  and  a  quarter  cents — then  in  general  circulation.  From  my 
childhood  I  have  had  greater  aptitude  for  spending  than  for 
gaining  or  keeping  money.  After  due  consideration,  I  resolved 
to  spend  my  first  four  pence  ha'penny  for  ginger-cakes — a  kind 
of  sweet  bread,  then  sold  at  musters  and  other  public  gatherings. 
An  old  woman  cake-baker  resided  on  the  suburb  of  the  town.  To 
her  house  I  repaired  to  invest  my  money.  On  arriving  at  the 
place  I  inquired  of  her  if  she  had  any  ginger-cakes.  She  replied 
that  she  had  none.     This  was  a  damper.     I  was  disappointed,  for 


THE  SCHOOL  BOY  AND  HIS  SCHOOLS.  57 

I  was  fond  of  the  cakes  and  had  anticipated  much  enjoyment  in 
eating  them.  I  was  balked,  but  not  defeated.  The  money  was 
of  no  use  to  me  unless  I  could  spend  it.  As  cakes  and  beer  were 
usually  sold  together,  I  asked  the  old  woman  if  she  had  any  beer. 
She  answered  that  she  had  no  beer,  but  had  some  cider.  For 
several  years  I  had  abstained  from  the  use  of  distilled  liquors,  but 
had  indulged  in  drinking  cider.  I  had  no  special  desire  for  it, 
but,  as  there  was  no  other  way  of  using  my  money,  I  requested 
her  to  let  me  have  four  pence  ha'penny  worth  of  cider.  The  old 
woman  soon  brought  out  a  quart  of  it,  and  I  handed  her  my  money. 
On  tasting  it  I  was  sorely  disappointed.  It  was  hard,  bitter  and 
positively  nauseous.  If  my  father  had  had  a  thousand  gallons  of 
such  cider  I  should  not  have  drunk  a  spoonful  of  it.  I  was,  how- 
ever, in  a  dilemma.  I  must  either  drink  the  cider  or  lose  my 
money.  To  drink  the  cider  was  revolting  to  my  taste,  and  to  lose 
money  was  in  violation  of  my  economy.  After  some  hesitation 
my  love  of  money  triumphed  over  my  aversion  to  hard  cider.  I 
resolved  to  drink  it  and  save  the  four  pence  ha'penny. 

How  much  of  the  cider — vinegar,  more  properly — I  drank  I 
do  not  recollect,  but  I  remember  that  my  head  became  dizzy  and 
I  indulged  in  some  rudeness  to  the  cake-baker,  which  she  threat- 
ened to  report  to  my  father.  I  was  not  so  much  intoxicated  as 
not  to  know  that  it  would  be  unpleasant  for  my  condition  to  be 
known  in  my  family.  I  returned  home,  crept  cautiously  to  my 
room  and  went  to  bed.  At  supper-time  I  was  missing,  and  my 
absence  caused  no  little  surprise,  as  I  was  usually  present  at 
meals.  Search  was  made  for  me  and  I  was  found  in  my  bed  fast 
asleep.  Some  time  during  the  night  I  awoke,  felt  qualmish,  went 
to  a  window  and  got  rid  of  both  my  cider  and  my  four  pence 
ha'penny. 

My  intoxication  differed  widely  from  ordinary  cases  of  the  evil. 
Usually  men  get  drunk  with  a  knowledge  that  their  drunkenness 
will  cost  them  money  ;  I  got  drunk  simply  from  a  desire  to  save 
it.  Ordinarily  persons  get  drunk  for  the  pleasure  of  indulging 
their  appetite ;  I  got  drunk  by  offering  a  disgusting  offence  to 
mine.  Most  persons  who  get  drunk  once  repeat  the  offence,  and 
many  of  them  until  the  vice  becomes  habitual  and  ruinous  ;  one 
indulgence  in  the  luxury  satisfied  me,  and  from  that  day  to  this 


58         LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

I  have  carefully  eschewed  it.  Drunkenness  is  not  necessarily  a 
sin.  A  man  may  be  intoxicated  by  accident,  through  false  views, 
or  from  deceptive  motives,  without  guilt.  I  have  recalled  my  in- 
ebriation with  amusement  rather  than  penitence,  and  have  re- 
corded it  to  teach  that  it  is  false  economy  to  endeavor  to  save 
money  by  eating  or  drinking  what  one  does  not  need. 

It  is  an  exciting  point  in  a  boy's  life  when  he 
first  enters  school,  and  all  the  more  when  he  has 
not  been  already  taught  at  home.  It  is  a  new  busi- 
ness with  him — his  first  venture  beyond  his  father's 
gate,  and  he  goes  forth  with  mingled  emotions  of 
dread,  curiosity  and  pride.  He  sees  things  with 
keen  eyes,  and  the  smallest  incidents  fasten  deeply 
upon  his  memory.  He  is  easily  pleased,  and  just  as 
easily  shocked  and  estranged. 

Young  Jeter  met  on  the  threshold  of  his  school 
life  one  of  the  severest  trials  which  he  ever  had.  I 
have  spoken  of  the  incompetency  of  his  teachers. 
It  was  bad  enough  that  they  were  so  lacking  in  the 
ability  to  give  instruction ;  but  it  was  even  more  to 
be  deplored  that  they  had  no  tact  for  management. 
They  were  often  vain  of  their  authority,  suspicious 
and  ready  to  punish  every  impropriety,  and  that  too 
when  they  had  only  the  crudest  notion  as  to  what 
constituted  a  real  misdemeanor.  In  the  subjoined 
incident,  Dr.  Jeter  tells  of  an  outrage  perpetrated 
upon  him  when  seven  years  old  by  his  first  teacher, 
Peter  Burns.  It  was  a  shock  to  his  nature  which 
so  awakened  his  youthful  wrath  that  nothing  but 
the  grace  of  God  enabled  him  to  subdue  his  resent- 
ment. He  was  mad  with  Burns,  even  to  the  fight- 
ing point,  for  twelve  years.     Here  is  his  story : 


THE  SCHOOL  BOY  AND  HIS  SCHOOLS.  59 

PETER  BURNS. 

When  I  was  seven  years  old,  my  father  resided  at  a  place 
called  the  Horse  Shoe,  in  the  county  of  Montgomery,  now  Pu- 
laski, as  a  manager  for  General  John  Preston,  who  is  well 
remembered  as  a  defaulting  Treasurer  of  Virginia.  He  had  a 
teacher  in  his  family  called  Peter  Burns.  He  was  an  Irishman, 
small  of  stature,  quite  advanced  in  years,  who  had  taught  school 
in  Richmond,  I  know  not  how  long,  nor  with  what  success.  The 
late  John  Valentine,  long  clerk  of  the  Second  Market,  knew  him 
as  a  schoolmaster  in  this  city.  In  the  ramily  school  of  General 
Preston  my  literary  training  was  unsuccessfully  commenced.  I 
remember  but  a  single  event  in  my  brief  course  of  study,  and 
that  made  an  indelible  impression  on  my  mind. 

One  morning  I  was  early  in  the  school-room.  On  reaching  it, 
I  found  there  John,  a  colored  boy,  belonging  to  General  Preston, 
who  was  being  educated  with  his  children.  Soon  the  teacher 
arrived,  and  it  was  discovered  that  a  copy-book  had  been  scrib- 
bled. I  was  asked  if  I  knew  aught  about  the  matter,  and  de- 
clared, with  perfect  sincerity,  that  I  did  not.  John,  however, 
testified  that  I  had  scribbled  the  book.  On  the  testimony  of 
John,  I  was  convicted  of  the  offence,  against  my  tearful  protesta- 
tions. My  condemnation,  under  the  circumstances,  was  a  folly 
and  an  outrage ;  but  if  I  had  been  guilty,  the  offence  was  trivial. 
The  scratching  of  a  copy-book  by  a  boy  seven  years  old,  just 
entering  a  school,  and  without  any  knowledge  that  such  an  act 
was  criminal,  was  surely  a  very  venial  offence.  It  did  not,  how- 
ever, so  appear  in  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Burns.  He  made  me  take  off 
my  jacket,  and  stand  with  my  hands  upon  a  bench  before  me  in 
a  convenient  position  to  receive  a  flogging.  I  do  not  think  that 
I  was  much  hurt ;  but  I  was  frightened  almost  to  death.  So  soon 
as  I  could  make  my  escape,  I  returned  home,  and  never  again 
entered  the  school  of  Peter  Burns. 

The  trial  had  passed,  but  was  not  forgotten.  I  made  up  my 
mind  that  if  I  ever  grew  to  have  sufficient  strength,  I  would 
chastise  Peter  Burns.  The  resolution  was  formed  in  my  inmost 
soul,  and  grew  with  my  growth,  and  strengthened  with  my 
strength.  At  any  time  after  I  reached  the  age  of  seventeen 
years,  until  I  made  a  profession  of  religion,  if  I  had  met  my 


60  EIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

tyrannical  schoolmaster,  neither  a  regard  to  his  age,  nor  respect, 
for  law,  nor  reverence  for  public  opinion,  would  have  prevented 
me  from  inflicting  on  him  personal  chastisement. 

Many  years  ago  the  old  man  ended,  under  I  know  not  what 
circumstances,  his  earthly  career,  and  I  have  do  motive  to  form 
a  harsh  opinion  of  his  conduct.  Possibly  he  thought  he  was 
doing  right,  and  seeking  my  interest,  in  the  fright  he  gave  me. 
In  that  case,  only  his  judgment  was  at  fault.  In  so  far  as  pas- 
sion influenced  his  judgment,  he  was  morally  culpable.  I  judge 
him  not ;  but  I  may  surely  avail  myself  of  the  case  to  make  a 
few  cautionary  remarks.  Great  care  should  be  taken  in  dealing 
with  children.  They  are  entitled  to  justice,  and  generally  under- 
stand what  it  is.  They  do  not  readily  forget  the  wrongs  they 
suffer,  nor  the  favors  they  receive.  Mr.  Burns  might  more  easily 
have  made  me  his  friend  than  his  foe.  By  flagrant  injustice,  he 
inspired  my  heart  with  a  burning  resentment,  which  grace,  I 
trust,  quenched,  but  of  which  neither  time  nor  grace  has  effaced 
the  remembrance.  School-teachers  are  in  great  danger  of  acting 
with  rashness  and  cruelty  toward  their  pupils.  Not  a  few  in- 
stances, more  in  former  than  in  later  times,  of  false  judgment  and 
severity  exercised  by  teachers  toward  their  defenceless  scholars 
have  come  to  my  knowledge.  I  protest  against  these  outrages. 
Children  are  thoughtless,  impulsive,  indiscreet  and  liable  to  be 
perverse ;  but  they  should  be  dealt  with  at  least  justly.  Parents 
and  the  managers  of  public  schools  should  see  to  it  that  children 
under  their  control  are  treated  with  due  tenderness  and  modera- 
tion ;  and  teachers  should  be  made  to  understand  that  all  pas- 
sionate and  unjust  dealings  with  children  are  criminal,  and  will 
provoke  at  least  a  righteous  public  indignation. 

It  will  be  noticed  in  his  "  Recollections  "  that  he 
makes  a  playful  allusion  to  one  of  his  teachers  who 
claimed  to  add  to  his  other  accomplishments  the 
ability  to  furnish  valuable  instruction  in  the  arts 
and  sciences.  It  seems  that  gradually  the  inquisitive 
pupil  began  to  suspect  that  these  pretensions  on  the 
part  of  the  new  teacher  were  not  well  founded.    His 


THE  SCHOOL  BOY  AND  HIS  SCHOOLS.  61 

quick  eye  discovered  in  the  pompous  personage  who 
talked  so  glibly  about  the  "  arts  and  sciences  "  some 
suggestive  symptoms  of  fraud.  He  did  not  believe 
in  him  and  he  resolved  to  put  him  to  the  test.  But 
let  him  tell  his  own  story : 

Light  was  being  radiated  from  a  neighboring  school.  That 
school  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  possessing  a  Walker's  Pronounc- 
ing Dictionary.  I  had  learned  that  Walker  pronounced  the 
word  panegyric  differently  from  what  my  teacher  of  the  "  arts 
and  sciences"  did,  and  I  resolved  to  put  his  scholarship  to  the 
test.  I  selected  a  reading-lesson,  containing  the  word  of  doubtful 
pronunciation,  and  read  it  distinctly,  calling  the  word  according 
to  Walker's  standard,  pan-e-gyr-ic.  "  Pa-neg-y-ric "  said  the 
teacher.  "  Walker,"  I  said  hesitatingly,  "  pronounces  it  pan-e- 
gyr-ic."  "  The  best  rhetoricians,"  he  replied,  in  an  excited  man- 
ner, "  that  I  have  ever  seen  pronounce  it  pa-neg-y-ric"  "  Pa-neg- 
y-ric"  said  I,  and  continued  my  reading. 

It  seems  that  he  did  not  learn  to  read  until  he  was 
nine  years  old.  His  flight  from  the  school  in  which 
Peter  Burns  held  such  cruel  sway  secured  for  him  a 
vacation  of  two  years.  At  the  end  of  that  time  his 
father,  who,  as  his  son  said,  "  always  thought  that  he 
could  do  better  somewhere  else  than  where  he  was," 
left  Montgomery  County,  and  returned  to  Bedford. 
There  the  boy  was  sent  to  school  again.  The  history 
of  that  school  is  very  brief;  but  it  was  not  without 
its  advantages.  This  is  what  Dr.  Jeter  has  to  say 
about  his  second  advent  into  school-life  : 

I  went  to  school  fourteen  days,  at  the  end  of  which  time  my 
teacher  got  drunk,  left  the  school,  and  I  never  heard  of  him 
afterwards.  That  short  season  of  instruction  was  an  epoch  in  my 
life.  I  commenced  with  the  alphabet,  and  learned  to  read  before 
the  elopement  of  the  teacher.     I  learned  to  read  by  chance.     I 


G2  LIFE  OF  JEItEMI All  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

had  been  taught  to  spell  in  monosyllables;  I  was  one  day  looking 
into  my  spelling-book,  and  my  attention  rested  on  the  line:  "No 
man  may  put  off  the  law  of  God."  I  spelt  one  word  after 
another  till  the  sense  of  the  line  burst  upon  my  mind,  and  the 
mystery  of  reading  was  revealed  to  me.  From  that  moment  my 
thirst  for  learning  became  insatiable,  and  I  pursued  it  in  all  its 
accessible  paths  with  increasing  pleasure. 

It  is  enough  to  melt  a  generous  heart  to  deepest 
pity  to  read  Jeter's  description  of  the  obstacles  which 
stood  between  him  and  even  the  scanty  and  imper- 
fect educational  facilities  which  were  offered  in  the 
days  of  his  youth.  He  says  that  he  could  go  to 
school  only  in  leisure  seasons,  and  on  rainy  days, 
and  at  irregular  and  sometimes  long  intervals.  His 
father  and  mother  had  but  a  meagre  education, 
and  no  gift  for  imparting  instruction.  Except  his 
few  school-books,  there  was  no  printed  page  in  his 
fathers  bouse  save  the  fragments  of  a  Bible. 

What  he  learned  he  did  not  understand ;  so  quick 
was  his  mind,  and  so  tenacious  his  memory,  that  he 
speedily  committed  to  memory  all  the  coarse  print 
in  Murray's  Grammar;  but  that  was  all  of  it.  lie 
was  then  under  the  tutelage  of  the  professor  of  the 
"  arts  and  sciences,"  but  that  distinguished  oracle 
did  not  really  understand  the  design  of  grammar. 
He  simpty  sat  in  silence  and  heard  the  scholars  glibly 
rattle  off  what  they  had  mechanically  packed  away 
in  their  memories.  The  substance  of  his  school-life 
was  that  he  had  not  half  a  chance  to  go  to  school, 
and  when  he  did  go,  Jie  was  compelled  to  sit  at  the 
feet  of  those  who  were  utterly  incompetent  to  in- 
struct him. 


THE  SCHOOL  BOY  AND  HIS  SCHOOLS.  63 

Of  the  utter  lack  of  literary  enthusiasm  among  his 
associates  he  has  this  to  say  : 

I  went  to  school  with  several  boys  of  bright  minds,  who  learned 
with  great  facility,  but  they  had  no  aspirations  for  learning,  and 
were  never  aware  of  their  latent  powers.  In  my  neighborhood 
there  was  nothing  to  awaken  or  cherish  a  literary  spirit.  There 
was  no  library,  and  but  few  books,  and  they  were  of  little  value ; 
no  literary  society,  nor  a  single  individual  who  took  a  newspaper. 
In  a  contiguous  neighborhood,  when  I  was  nearly  grown,  a  de- 
bating club  was  formed,  of  which  I  became  a  member.  I  made 
my  debut  as  a  public  speaker  on  the  question,  "  Is  beauty  real  or 
imaginary?"  I  espoused  the  side  of  its  reality,  and  after  the 
lapse  of  more  than  half  a  century  I  have  quite  a  vivid  recollec- 
tion of  my  speech. 

Evidently  the  one  redeeming  incident  in  Jeter's 
school-life  was  his  association  with  Lewis  Parker. 
He  never  recalled  his  name  except  with  tender  and 
grateful  pleasure.  He  was  a  poor,  ambitious  youth, 
who  had  made  a  manly  struggle  for  an  education, 
and  who  joined  with  his  anxiety  to  learn,  a  keen 
relish  for  teaching.  He  was  painfully  conscious  of 
his  deficiencies,  and  not  ashamed  to  confess  his  ignor- 
ance. In  his  candor  and  sympathy  this  aspiring 
boy  found  encouragement.  He  could  ask  as  many 
questions  as  he  pleased  without  the  dread  of  rebuke. 
He  could  state  his  objections  without  exposing  him- 
self to  the  charge  of  impertinence.  In  his  contact 
with  this  studious  and  kind-hearted  young  man  he 
found  great  advantages.  They  became  companions 
and  helped  each  other.  It  would  often  happen  that 
young  Jeter  would  be  kept  at  home  ;  but  so  refreshed 
and  inspired  was  he  by  the  influence  of  his  beloved 


64  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

teacher,  that  he  tells  us  that  many  a  day  he  followed 
the  plough,  with  the  book  or  manuscript  containing 
his  lesson  fastened  between  its  handles,  so  that  he 
might  read  while  he  worked. 

In  his  later  days  Dr.  Jeter  was  always  glad  to  talk 
about  Lewis  Parker.  He  thought  of  him  as  one  of 
his  early  benefactors.  He  stood  out  upon  the  can- 
vas of  his  memory  as  a  lovely  and  honored  figure. 
Of  all  his  teachers,  Parker  was  the  most  inspiring 
and  helpful  to  him.  He  records  with  evident  sor- 
row the  fact  that  this  friend  of  his  youth  died  while 
yet  a  young  man,  and  before  he  had  the  opportunity 
of  expressing  to  him  his  grateful  recollection  of  his 
kindness. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

HIS  CONVERSION. 

NINETEEN  years  out  of  Christ !  Nineteen  years 
in  the  service  of  Satan !  Nearly  a  score  of 
years  spent  in  darkness,  and  almost  worse  than 
wasted  !  Truly  a  sad  fact  in  the  history  of  Dr.  Jeter. 
It  was  a  pity  indeed,  that  one-fourth  of  his  appointed 
years  on  the  earth,  and  those  in  many  respects  the 
most  important,  should  have  been  given  to  earthly 
things.  We  can  never  estimate  the  loss  which  he 
suffered  in  the  delay  of  his  conversion.  He  felt  it 
most  keenly,  and  was  never  more  earnest  than  in 
urging  the  claims  of  Christ  upon  the  young. 

And  yet,  we  cannot  be  surprised  that  his  accept* 
ance  of  the  Gospel  did  not  come  sooner.  He  grew 
up  at  a  time  when  it  was  not  expected  that  children 
would  turn  their  thoughts  to  religion.  Ministers 
made  no  appeals  to  the  young,  and  any  exhibition  of 
religious  emotion  on  the  part  of  children  was  regarded 
with  suspicion.  To  this  fact  we  must  add  another. 
In  the  household  where  young  Jeter  grew  up  there 
were  no  church  members,  and  in  a  large  degree  he 
was  cut  off  from  religious  privileges.  He  did  not 
often  hear  the  Gospel,  and  the  preachers  in  those 
days  took  no  pains  to  make  their  sermons  specially 
5  65 


66  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

applicable  or  attractive  to  the  young  people.  Hence 
it  came  to  pass  that  not  until  he  had  entered  his 
twentieth  year  did  he  know  the  grace  of  God. 

Let  it  be  said,  however,  that  he  was  never  decid- 
edly irreligious.  He  was  always  free  from  vicious 
habits  and  from  his  childhood  he  believed  in  the  ex- 
istence of  God.  But  he  did  not  have  any  decided 
conviction  that  it  was  his  duty  to  become  a  Chris- 
tion.  With  such  a  nature  as  his,  and  without  the 
controlling  influence  of  the  Gospel,  we  can  well  un- 
derstand what  manner  of  boy  he  was.  He  was 
brimful  of  vitality,  ambition  and  restlessness.  He 
gave  himself  freely  to  such  pleasures  as  fell  within 
his  reach.  He  was  full  of  frivolity,  merriment  and 
mischief.  He  had  an  inborn  passion  for  pre-emi- 
nence and  he  sought  to  lead  in  whatever  he  under- 
took. In  the  sports  of  the  play-ground  and  the 
amusements  of  social  life  he  was  always  conspicu- 
ous. He  was  fond  of  jesting  and  always  ready  for 
a  practical  joke.  His  sense  of  the  ludicrous  was 
keen  even  to  excess,  and  his  fondness  for  laughter 
and  fun  amounted  to  a  contagion.  He  made  things 
lively  wherever  he  went.  He  could  tell  a  story 
with  fine  effect,  and  he  was  an  expert  in  caricature. 
A  gleeful,  rollicksome,  light-hearted  boy  he  was,  joy- 
ous in  the  flow  of  his  young  life,  and  with  no  dread 
of  evils  to  come.  Had  he  remained  out  of  Christ, 
his  self-respect  and  native  self-mastery  would  prob- 
ably have  saved  him  from  a  corrupt  and  wantonly 
wicked  life,  and  yet  it  is  hard  to  tell  into  what  path 
his  wild  ambition  would  have  led  him.  Had  he 
served  the  devil,  he  would  have  been  a  leader  of 


HIS  CONVERSION.  67 

dangerous  power  and  his  example  would  have  been 
mighty  for  evil. 

But  beneath  the  gleam  and  laughter  of  his  youth 
there  was  always  a  sober  spirit.  When  he  was  yet 
a  child  his  soul  was  often  burdened  with  deep  and 
solemn  thoughts.  Unusual  events  often  turned  the 
current  of  his  thinking  towards  eternity.  He  men- 
tions that  when  he  was  a  little  boy,  an  aged  woman, 
who  was  an  inmate  of  his  father's  house,  died.  The 
spectacle  of  death  startled  him  with  overwhelming 
surprise.  It  thrilled  him  with  awful  thoughts  of  the 
grave  and  of  the  world  to  come.  He  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  spirit-world  and  for  many  days  he  was 
quiet  and  afraid.  If,  then,  some  Christian  teacher 
had  opened  before  him  the  gateway  of  spiritual  life, 
it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  his  restless  spirit  would 
have  gladly  entered  it. 

The  real  difficulty  in  his  case  was,  that  he  was 
ignorant  of  the  Gospel.  His  religious  education  had 
been  utterly  neglected.  He  did  not  know  the  way 
of  life,  because  there  was  no  man  to  point  it  out  to 
him.  In  reading  the  story  of  his  conversion  we  will 
find  that  he  came  to  the  cross  by  slow  and  irregular 
steps.  That  weary  and  chequered  experience 
through  which  he  passed  was  the  journey  of  one 
who,  with  many  hindrances  and  few  helps,  was 
stumbling  in  the  dark.  He  was  a  "  seeker  "  for  many 
weeks,  and  indeed  for  several  years  he  was  the  sub- 
ject of  many  harrowing  and  distressing  convictions. 
To  us  who  have  long  walked  in  the  heavenly  way, 
and  have  found  it  so  clear  and  pleasant,  it  seems 
odd  that  he  should  have  been  so  slow  in  finding  it. 


68  LI^E  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

But  we  must  not  reproach  him.  No  man  cared  for 
his  soul,  and  he  struggled  alone.  Had  the  light  been 
brighter,  he  would  have  walked  faster. 

But  I  will  not  anticipate.  It  will  be  better  to  al- 
low him  to  celebrate  in  his  own  way  that  matchless 
grace  which  rescued  him  from  bondage  and  brought 
him  into  the  kingdom  of  Christ  Jesus.  It  seems  fit- 
ting that  the  account  of  his  conversion  should  be  in- 
troduced with  his  history  of  that  celebrated  revival 
which  swept  over  Bedford  in  1821,  and  during  which 
his  conversion  occurred. 

THE    GREAT   REVIVAL. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  century  there  was  a  considerable  re- 
ligious awakening  in  the  land  of  my  nativity.  I  frequently  heard 
my  seniors  tell  of  the  preachers,  meetings  and  converts  of  those 
times.  They  had  been  succeeded  by  a  long-continued  season  of 
religious  coldness  and  sterility.  Local  revivals,  of  very  limited 
influence,  undoubtedly  occurred  ;  but  when  I  had  reached  the 
age  of  nineteen  years,  none  had  come  within  the  range  of  my  ob- 
servation. People  attended  religious  meetings  occasionally,  but 
rather  to  see  and  hear  what  was  passing  than  to  be  profited  by 
the  word  of  God.  Churches  were  small,  and  composed  exclusively 
of  members  who  had  reached  or  passed  the  meridian  of  life. 

In  the  summer  of  1821  there  began  to  appear  signs  of  an  ap- 
proaehing  religious  revival.  Congregations  were  larger,  preach- 
ing was  more  searching  and  earnest  and  was  heard  with  greater 
attention  and  solemnity,  tears  furnished  proof  of  more  tender  feel- 
ing,  and  prayers  for  the  conversion  of  sinners  were  more  import- 
unate than  in  years  past.  The  churches  hoped  for  a  speedy  and 
copious  ingathering  of  precious  souls.  In  the  latter  part  of 
August,  a  meeting  of  several  days  was  held  at  Hatcher's  meeting- 
house. On  Sunday  the  assembly  was  large.  The  pulpit  in  the 
grove  was  occupied,  successively  and  without  intermission,  by 
Elders  John  Davis,  Absalom  Dempsey,  William  Harris  and 
William  Leftwich.     Their  sermons,  not  abridged  in  length,  but 


HIS  CONVERSION.  69 

increased  in  power,  were  heard  with  unabated  interest  to  the 
close.  The  time  to  favor  Zion — yea,  the  set  time — had  come. 
The  ministers  had  preached  the  same  doctrine,  to  the  same  people, 
under  similar  circumstances,  many  a  time,  without  any  apparent 
effect.  Now  there  seemed  to  be  a  mysterious,  pervasive  and  sub- 
duing influence  attending  their  ministrations.  The  thoughtless 
became  attentive ;  the  frivolous  were  awed  into  solemnity ;  eyes 
unused  to  weeping  poured  out  rivers  of  water ;  and  not  a  few 
persons  gave  utterance  to  sobs,  sighs  and  lamentations.  The 
preaching  was  followed  by  singing,  prayer  and  appropriate  coun- 
sels and  exhortations.  Many  who  had  come  for  amusement  re- 
mained for  devotion.  Gradually  and  slowly  the  congregation 
dispersed,  some  remaining  till  the  approach  of  evening  admon- 
ished them  to  depart. 

At  that  time  "  protracted  meetings,"  in  the  present  acceptation 
of  the  phrase,  were  unknown.  Meetings  of  two  or  three  days 
were  held,  but  no  religious  interest  or  prospect  of  usefulness  sug- 
gested their  longer  continuance.  After  the  awakening  services 
referred  to  above,  religious  meetings  were  greatly  multiplied. 
They  were  mostly  held  of  nights  at  private  houses,  or  of  afternoons 
in  arbors,  prepared  for  the  purpose,  in  forests.  At  these  meetings 
the  attendance  was  large  and  solemn — heed  was  generally  given 
to  the  gospel.  Inquirers  were  invited  to  kneel  for  prayer,  and 
sometimes  tc  occupy  special  seats  for  receiving  private  instruction. 
There  was,  I  now  think,  a  serious  defect  in  the  directions  given  to 
the  anxious.  They  were  taught  the  necessity  of  passing  through 
a  round  of  experience  in  order  to  be  prepared  to  receive  Christ. 
Whether  the  excellent  fathers  intended  to  make  this  impression,  I 
cannot  say,  but  such  was  the  result  of  their  teaching.  Awakened, 
troubled  souls — polluted,  guilty  and  helpless — instead  of  learning 
that  it  was  their  duty  to  believe  in  Christ,  cherished  the  delusion 
that  they  must  come  to  him  only  as  penitent  or  renovated  sinners. 
They  must  be  good  before  Christ  could  accept  them.  They  must 
be  healed  before  they  could  apply  to  the  Physician.  Under  this 
mistake  many  burdened  souls  labored  for  weeks  and  months  in 
the  vain  effort  to  make  themselves  worthy.  In  spite  of  the  delu- 
sion, and  the  embarrassment  and  delay  consequent  on  it,the  work 
of  conversion  went  on.     The  revival  spread  steadily  from  neigh- 


70  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

borhood  to  neighborhood,  from  church  to  church,  and  from  Bed- 
ford to  the  contiguous  counties  of  Franklin,  Pittsylvania,  Bote- 
tourt and  Campbell.     Several  things  were  notable  in  this  revival- 

It  was  of  long  continuance.  Most  modern  revivals,  dependent 
on  protracted  meeting  efforts,  are  transient.  They  resemble  a 
hasty  summer  shower,  refreshing  while  it  lasts,  but  followed  soon 
by  drought  and  barrenness.  This  revival  continued  for  many 
months,  not  all  the  time  in  one  community,  but  spreading  gradu- 
ally, as  fire  in  dry  stubble,  wafted  by  a  gentle  wind,  from  church 
to  church,  and  from  one  neighborhood  to  another.  Neither  the 
heat  of  summer  nor  the  cold  of  winter,  the  toils  of  autumn  nor  the 
attractions  of  spring  arrested  its  progress.  Pastors,  after  weeks  of 
absence,  would  return  to  the  flocks  to  find  that  there  had  been  no 
abatement  in  their  religious  feelings. 

In  a  remarkable  degree  the  revival  was  promoted  by  agents 
created  by  itself.  In  almost  every  neighborhood  where  it  pre- 
vailed young  men  were  called  into  the  ministry.  They  were  very 
imperfectly  equipped  for  their  work,  but  they  labored  among  a 
plain  people,  whose  demands  for  ministerial  gifts  were  not  high 
and  whose  spirit  was  not  critical.  If  these  young  evangelists  could 
not  present  a  logical  argument  for  the  truth  of  the  gospel,  they 
believed  it  with  all  their  hearts,  and  preached  because  they  did 
believe.  They  were  unacquainted  with  many  scriptural  doctrines, 
and  especially  with  the  proofs  of  their  divinity,  but  they  under- 
stood the  way  of  salvation.  If  they  could  not  contend  with  astute 
skeptics,  they  could  guide  the  honest,  earnest  inquirer  to  life  eter- 
nal. Their  sermons  were  impressive,  rather  than  instructive,  and 
were  noted,  not  for  the  variety,  but  for  the  importance  of  the 
truths  they  conveyed.  They  had  learned  the  corruption  of  their 
own  hearts,  and  the  fearfulness  of  their  own  guilt,  and  could  tes- 
tify, from  sweet  experience,  the  power  and  freeness  of  redeeming 
grace.  They  went  forth  to  their  work  plainly  clad,  without  con- 
veyances, and  some  of  them  without  a  pocket-Bible  or  a  hymn- 
book,  but  with  glowing  zeal  for  the  salvation  of  souls.  Whether 
they  had  been  called  to  the  ministry,  or  were  in  the  apostolic  suc- 
cession, were  questions  which  did  not  occupy  their  minds.  The 
people  desired  to  hear  something  about  Christ,  and  what  these 
young  brethren  knew  concerning  him  they  were  willing  to  tell  in 


HIS  CONVERSION.  71 

such  language  as  their  hearers  could  understand.  The  desire  to 
listen  to  their  ministrations  was  general  and  intense,  and  due, 
doubtless,  in  part,  to  the  prevalence  of  the  revival,  and,  in  part, 
to  their  juvenility  and  the  freshness  of  their  preaching.  Every- 
where their  visits  were  received  with  pleasure,  their  congregations 
were  large  and  their  labors  were  crowned  with  success.  They  did 
not  labor  alone,  but  in  harmony  with,  and  under  the  direction  of, 
the  settled  pastors  of  the  churches. 

The  revival  was  distinguished  for  the  excellence  of  its  fruits.  I 
have  no  means  of  estimating  the  number  added  by  it  to  the 
churches.  It  was  common  for  persons,  under  conviction  of  sin,  to 
fall,  lie  on  the  floor  or  ground  for  hours,  and  to  exhibit  the  signs 
of  deep  feeling,  such  as  tears,  groans  and  crying  for  mercy.  These 
exercises,  I  am  convinced,  were  not  unavoidable,  neither  were 
they  feigned.  They  sprang  partly  from  an  excitable  tempera- 
ment, and  partly  from  an  erroneous  impression  that  they  were  the 
proper  signs  of  true  repentance.  Honest,  but  ill-informed  persons 
cherished  these  bodily  exercises  as  the  best  means  of  securing  sal- 
vation. Time  demonstrated  that  those  who  made  the  greatest  show 
of  their  feelings  were  not  always  the  most  profitably  impressed. 
One  man,  whose  intense  emotions  and  violent  convulsions  I 
heartily  envied,  proved  to  be,  in  after  times,  a  most  unsteady  and 
unfruitful  Christian. 

This  revival  was  specially  important  as  forming  a  sort  of  con- 
necting link  between  the  old  and  new  dispensations  of  the 
Virginia  Baptists.  The  fathers  preached  without  salaries,  main- 
tained themselves  by  their  secular  toils  and  trained  the  churches 
most  successfully  to  give  nothing  for  the  support  of  the  gospel. 
Many  of  them  were  opposed,  not  to  learned  ministers,  but  to  the 
training  of  ministers  for  their  work.  They  were  unfortunately 
driven  to  these  extremes  by  their  opposition  to  the  colonial  relig- 
ous  establishment.  As  they  charged  the  clergy  with  preaching 
from  mercenary  motives,  they  deemed  it  necessary  to  show  their 
own  disinterestedness  by  preaching  without  fee  or  reward.  As 
they  maintained  that  the  clergy  were  men-made  preachers,  they 
aimed  to  demonstrate  that  they  themselves  were  God-made  teachers 
by  preaching  without  special  training  for  it.  With  all  their  ex- 
cellent qualities  and    noble  works,  they  erred  on  these   points. 


72  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

These  mistakes  the  progress  of  knowledge  and  experience  was  sure 
to  correct.  The  new  dispensation — the  time  of  missions,  Sunday- 
schools,  and  ministerial  and  general  education — was  coetaneous 
with  the  revival  above  described.  It  was  not  the  cause,  but  an 
important  factor  in  the  change.  It  would  have  taken  place 
had  the  revival  not  occurred,  but  certainly  not  in  precisely  the 
same  way.  It  gave  a  mighty  impulse  to  the  Baptist  cause  in  the 
upper  portion  of  the  State — an  impulse  that  was  soon  felt  to  its 
utmost  limits — and  furnished  the  first  missionaries  to  the  Gene- 
ral Association. 

The  fathers  who  labored  in  that  revival  long  since  ceased  from 
their  labors,  and  entered  into  rest.  Of  all  the  ministers  called  out 
by  it,  only  two  or  three  are  now  living.  It  is  pleasant  to  consider 
that  the  cause  which  they  loved,  and  for  the  promotion  of  which 
they  labored,  still  lives,  and,  so  far  as  it  is  right  and  pleasing  to 
God,  will  live  and  prosper,  and  finally  triumph. 

MY    EXPERIENCE. 

"  Experience,'*  as  it  was  generally  called,  occupied  a  much 
more  prominent  place  in  sermons  and  in  religious  conversation 
fifty  years  ago  than  it  now  does.  It  signified  that  series  of  con- 
victions, emotions  and  conflicts  intervening  between  the  time  of 
the  awakening  and  the  conversion  of  a  sinner.  The  term  might 
not  have  been  well  chosen  ;  but  it  was  well  understood  by  those 
who  used  it.  Every  Christian  has,  and  must  have,  an  expe- 
rience. Conversion  is  invariably  preceded  and  accompanied  by 
certain  mental  exercises,  more  or  less  intense  and  lasting,  and 
these  constitute  an  experience — a  Christian  experience.  It  is 
not  the  whole  of  a  Christian's  experience,  but  that  part  of  it 
which  is  essential  to  constitute  him  a  Christian.  There  is  great 
diversity  as  well  as  great  harmony  in  the  experiences  of  Chris- 
tians. They  all  have  the  same  sense  of  guilt  and  depravity,  the 
same  sorrow  for  sin,  the  same  despair  of  salvation  by  works,  the 
same  trust  in  Christ,  the  same  feeling  of  deliverance  from  sin 
and  guilt,  and  the  same  joyful  hope  of  eternal  life;  but  the 
order,  intensity,  intermingling  and  continuance  of  these  exer- 
cises vary  with  every  true  convert.  I  had  an  experience,  which 
I  am  willing  to  record  for  the  encouragement  of  anxious  inquirers 


HIS  CONVERSION.  73 

on  the  subject  of  religion.  I  give  it  publicity  with  the  greater 
pleasure  because  it  contains  nothing,  except  mere  circumstantials, 
which  is  not  common  in  the  experience  of  every  Christian.  If 
I  state  some  things  that  are  trivial,  and  scarcely  compatible  with 
the  gravity  of  the  theme,  it  is  because  they  may  afford  encour- 
agement to  inquirers  and  assist  in  guiding  sinners  assailed  by 
similar  temptations. 

I  was  brought  up  without  special  religious  instruction.  Neither 
my  father  nor  my  mother  was  a  member  of  a  church.  My 
mother,  having  been  trained  by  a  pious  father,  had  strong  relig- 
ious convictions  ;  and  her  conversation  on  pious  subjects,  though 
rarely  addressed  to  me,  made  an  early  and  deep  impression  on 
my  mind.  From  my  childhood  I  considered  religion  as  supremely 
important,  and  viewed  all  Christians  with  veneration.  My  op- 
portunities for  gaining  religious  knowledge  were  little  better 
abroad  than  at  home.  I  heard  preaching  not  oftener,  perhaps, 
than  once  a  month,  and  much  of  that  was  of  a  kind  not  adapted 
to  my  instruction.  The  sermons  of  the  time,  long  and  tedious, 
were  largely  devoted  to  the  fierce  discussion  of  abstruse  doctrinal 
points.  Occasionally  my  sympathies  would  be  excited  by  a 
warm,  sing-song  discourse. 

In  my  boyhood  I  cherished  the  hope  that,  in  due  time,  I  would 
be  converted.  That  it  was  my  duty  to  be  a  Christian,  was  a 
thought  which  never  entered  my  mind.  The  preaching  that  I 
heard  made  on  me  the  impression  that  I  must  quietly  wait  until 
God's  time  for  my  conversion  should  come — if,  indeed,  it  should 
ever  come.  Vv^ith  these  views  I  grew  up,  spending  the  Sundays 
in  which  I  had  not  an  opportunity  to  hear  preaching  in  visiting 
and  in  the  amusements  and  sports  of  the  times. 

I  remember  distinctly  the  first  prayer  that  I  ever  uttered.  It 
was  in  the  summer  of  1810  when  I  was  about  seventeen  years 
old.  As  I  was  plowing  alone,  my  thoughts  were  suddenly  ar- 
rested by  the  presence  and  majesty  of  God.  I  was  overwhelmed 
with  awe,  and,  falling  on  my  knees,  pleaded  with  God  for  mercy. 
Though  I  knew  that  no  being  but  the  Omniscient  saw  me,  I  was 
filled  with  deep  shame  that  I  had  attempted  to  pray.  For  days 
I  went  with  a  downcast  countenance,  not  having  courage  to  look 
my  friends  in  the  face,  and  ashamed  that  even  God  should  have 


74  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

heard  ray  prayers.  My  impressions,  however,  were  not  imme- 
diately effaced.  For  several  weeks  I  carefully  concealed  my 
emotions,  but  continued  to  pray  for  Divine  aid.  In  this  time  I 
became  quite  self-righteous.  I  was  growing,  as  I  supposed,  very 
good,  and  looked  with  great  compassion  on  my  companions  in 
their  levity,  guilt  and  danger.  In  a  few  weeks  my  impressions 
were  effaced,  and  my  fair  resolutions  were  abandoned.  My 
goodness,  as  the  morning  cloud  and  as  the  early  dew,  passed 
away. 

I  have  referred,  in  another  article,  to  the  revival  which  com- 
menced in  my  neighborhood  in  the  year  1821.  In  the  early 
summer  I  attended  a  Sabbath  service  at  the  Suck  Spring  Baptist 
meeting-house,  near  my  paternal  residence.  I  did  what  it  was 
unusual  for  me  to  do — remained  without  the  house  during  the 
sermon.  It  was  a  communion  season.  After  the  congregation 
had  partially  dispersed,  I  went  into  the  house.  The  service  was 
about  closing,  as  usual  on  such  an  occasion,  with  singing  a  song 
and  shaking  hands.  There  was  much  warmth  of  feeling  among 
the  communicants.  It  was  one  of  the  signs  of  the  approaching 
revival.  At  first  I  amused  myself  with  a  young  lady  of  my  ac- 
quaintance, who  was  looking  gravely  on  the  scene.  Soon  my 
own  attention  was  arrested  by  it,  and  I  burst  into  an  irrepressi- 
ble flood  of  tears.  My  mortification  at  this  unexpected,  and,  as 
it  appeared  to  me,  unseemly  demonstration  of  feeling,  was  in- 
tense. I  left  the  house,  concealed  myself  until  the  congregation 
had  all  left,  and  then  rode  home  alone  and  in  anxious  thought. 
This  was  the  commencement  of  my  second  effort  to  become  a 
Christian.  I  betook  myself  to  reading  the  Scriptures,  meditation 
and  prayer.  In  a  few  days  I  attended  the  burial  of  a  young 
man  whom  I  had  known.  He  was  of  respectable  connections, 
but  had  become  intemperate,  and,  by  a  reckless  course  of  dissi- 
pation, had  brought  himself  to  an  untimely  end.  As  the  body 
had  been  brought  a  considerable  distance  to  be  interred,  it  was 
deemed  proper  to  open  the  coffin.  I  looked  into  it,  and  such  a 
sight  I  have  never  elsewhere  seen.  The  eyes  and  mouth  of  the 
corpse  were  stretched  wide  open,  and  neither  force  nor  skill 
could  close  them.  The  unfortunate  death  of  the  young  man  and 
the  horrid  appearance  of  his  ghastly  face  made  a  deep  impression 


HIS  CONVERSION.  75 

on  my  nervous  system,  that  had  been  weakened  by  anxiety  and 
sleeplessness.  I  lost  all  interest  in  society,  pursued  my  daily 
labor  with  a  heavy  heart,  ate  my  food  without  relish,  and  could 
not  close  my  eyes  at  night  without  having,  full  in  my  view,  the 
revolting  sight  of  the  young  man  in  his  coffin.  My  religious 
convictions  and  my  nervous  disorder  were  inseparable.  Together 
they  formed  an  intolerable  burden.  All  nature  was  veiled  in 
gloom,  and  my  existence  was  a  weariness.  Prayer  seemed  to  add 
to  my  distress,  and  my  nervous  excitement  made  my  prayers  a 
confusion  and  a  mockery.  I  deliberately  came  to  the  conclusion 
that,  to  get  rid  of  my  nervous  trouble,  I  must  suppress  my  re- 
ligious convictions,  and,  for  the  present,  at  any  rate,  abandon  all 
hope  of  salvation.  Fresh  air,  exercise,  society  and  amusements 
soon  restored  me  to  health,  and  my  restoration  to  a  sound  ner- 
vous condition  found  me  free  from  all  religious  concern,  and  as 
frivolous,  worldly  and  far  from  God  as  I  had  ever  been.  If  I 
could  reach  the  kingdom  of  heaven  only  by  the  dismal  road  that 
Thad  been  traveling,  I  had  no  wish  to  make  the  journey.  Here 
ends  the  second  chapter  in  my  religious  experience,  if  religious 
experience  it  may  be  called. 

In  another  article  I  have  given  a  pretty  full  account  of  the 
commencement  of  the  great  revival  at  Hatcher's  meeting-house 
in  August,  1821.  The  event  was  to  me  fraught  with  momentous 
consequences.  I  was  slightly  advanced  in  the  twentieth  year  of 
my  age,  and  as  volatile  and  as  full  of  delusive  hopes  as  any  strip- 
ling in  the  community.  On  a  Saturday  afternoon,  at  the  house 
of  a  neighbor,  I  became  acquainted  with  Daniel  Witt,  a  few 
months  my  senior,  but  in  appearance  much  my  junior.  A  slight 
intercourse  satisfied  us  that  our  views,  tastes  and  aims  were  con- 
genial, and  gave  birth  to  a  friendship  and  intimacy  which,  till 
the  time  of  his  death— a  period  of  fifty  years — knew  no  abatement 
and  scarcely  admitted  of  any  increase.  Sunday  morning  we  rode 
together  to  church.  In  all  my  life  I  had  never  been  more  vola- 
tile or  more  set  on  amusement  and  mischief.  I  need  not  repeat 
the  account  of  the  meeting,  elsewhere  given.  Witt  and  myself 
sat  together.  Both  became  impressed  about  the  same  time,  and, 
apparently,  in  the  same  degree,  by  such  preaching  as  we  had 
often  heard  without  concern.     A  solemn,  deep  and  pervasive 


76  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

feeling  was  produced  in  the  large  assembly.  The  services  were 
continued  till  late  in  the  afternoon.  When  I  raised  my  head 
and  opened  my  eyes,  I  was  astonished  to  find  that  all  the  congre- 
gation, excepting  a  few  of  my  friends,  were  gone.  Even  my  new 
companion,  Witt,  having  a  dozen  miles  to  travel  to  his  home, 
had  left  an  hour  or  two  before. 

My  purpose  to  become  a  Christian  was  now  fixed.  From  my 
very  childhood,  I  had  been  ambitious  to  excel.  With  me  it  was 
a  settled  aim  never  to  follow,  if  I  could  lead.  My  natural  tem- 
perament had  its  share  in  shaping  my  resolution  to  become  a 
Christian.  It  was  not  merely  my  purpose  to  enter  into  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,  but  to  outstrip  all  my  associates  in  the  celestial 
race.  I  engaged  in  the  execution  of  my  purpose  in  a  thoroughly 
earnest  and  a  thoroughly  self-sufficient  spirit.  My  subsequent 
course  was  in  full  harmony  with  my  resolution.  I  forsook  all 
known  sins,  did  not  indulge  myself  in  a  smile,  withdrew  from  all 
society  except  religious,  thought  of  nothing  but  my  salvation  and 
mingled  prayer  with  almost  every  waking  breath.  My  aim  was 
to  become  good  enough  for  Christ  to  receive  me. 

My  experience  antedates  the  commencement  of  protracted 
meetings  ;  but,  in  seasons  of  revival,  meetings — especially  night- 
meetings,  at  private  houses — were  greatly  increased  in  number. 
I  attended  all  those  within  my  reach,  if  my  engagements  wTould 
permit.  A  short  time  after  the  memorable  meeting  at  Hatcher's 
meeting-house  there  was  an  appointment  for  a  night  service  in 
the  neighborhood  of  my  abode.  There  was  a  crowded  house. 
Of  the  sermon  I  recollect  nothing.  At  the  close  of  it  the  minis- 
ter said  :  "  If  any  one  present  desires  prayer,  let  him  manifest  it, 
and  I  will  pray  for  him."  It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  heard 
such  a  proposal  made.  Had  he  requested  those  who  desired 
prayer  to  rise,  kneel  or  occupy  a  particular  seat,  I  should  have 
had  no  difficulty  in  complying  with  the  request,  for  I  did  most 
fervently  desire  that  prayer  should  be  offered  for  me,  and  I  was 
not  ashamed  to  acknowledge  it.  The  preacher,  however,  asked 
that  any  one  wishing  prayer  should  manifest  his  wish.  I  could 
think  of  but  one  way  of  manifesting  it,  and  that  was  by  publicly 
requesting  him  to  pray  for  me.  It  was  a  fearful  task.  I  was  un- 
used to  speaking  in  public,  and  was  in  the  presence  of  my  com- 


HIS  CONVERSION.  77 

panions,  among  whom  I  had  been  a  leader  in  amusements  and  in 
mischief;  how  could  I  ask  for  prayer?  It  was  an  urgent  case. 
My  soul  was  in  peril.  In  all  my  life  I  have  never  had  a  greater 
conflict  between  a  sense  of  duty  and  a  feeling  of  timidity.  The 
struggle  was  short.  In  a  few  moments  I  said  distinctly  :  "  Pray 
for  me !  "  I  have  said  many  things  since  which  I  have  had  cause 
to  regret,  but  I  have  never  been  sorry  that  I  made  that  request. 
The  minister,  after  a  slight  delay,  said  :  "  Is  there  only  one  sinner 
in  the  congregation  who  desires  prayer  ? "  Instantly,  and  as  by  a 
common  impulse,  the  assembly  rushed  around  the  spot  where  I 
was  sitting,  fell  on  their  knees,  and  broke  forth  into  sobs  and 
lamentations. 

At  once  I  was  assailed  by  a  most  painful  temptation.  I  had 
alone  gone  through  the  fierce  conflict  of  asking  for  prayer,  and 
now  its  benefits  were  to  be  divided  between  so  many  that  I  should 
derive  but  small  advantage  from  it.  I  was  sadly  out  of  humor. 
My  heart,  that  had  been  tender,  instantly  became  hard  and  re- 
sentful. My  tears,  that  had  flowed  copiously,  were  arrested,  and 
I  was  utterly  unfitted  for  the  solemn  service  in  which  I  was  en- 
gaged. I  left  the  house  with  far  less  hope  of  salvation  than  I  had 
when  I  entered  it. 

A  few  weeks  later  another  night-meeting  was  appointed  at  the 
same  place.  I  resolved,  if  possible,  to  be  ready  for  conversion  by 
that  time.  In  view  of  the  period  that  I  had  been  seeking  deliv- 
erance from  my  sins,  the  many  prayers  I  had  offered,  the  many 
tears  I  had  shed,  and  my  undeviating  diligence  in  efforts  to  se- 
cure my  salvation,  I  concluded  that  the  hour  of  my  conversion 
must  be  near.  I  attended  the  meeting  with  high  hope,  almost 
confident  that  I  should  find  relief,  but  I  was  doomed  to  a  sore 
disappointment.  The  meeting  was  crowded,  and  the  religious  ex- 
citement was  intense.  Among  the  inquirers  was  a  rough,  uncouth 
and  ignorant  lad  named  Bill  Carter.  Occupying  a  prominent 
position,  he  opened  wide  his  mouth  and  roared  like  a  lion.  The 
scene  was  indescribably  ludicrous,  and,  in  spite  of  the  solemnity 
of  the  occasion,  and  my  deep  concern  for  my  salvation,  I  burst  into 
an  uncontrollable  fit  of  laughter.  I  quickly  left  the  room,  retired 
to  a  private  place  in  the  yard,  and  prostrated  myself  on  the  earth, 
fearing  that  I  had  committed  the  unpardonable  sin.    I  meditated 


78  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

on  my  lost  condition  and  rny  unaccountable  levity,  and  my  solemn 
feelings  returned.  I  confessed  my  sin,  prayed,  wept  and  resolved 
to  be  more  watchful  against  levity.  As  I  was  beginning  to  think 
my  condition  more  hopeful,  the  image  of  Bill  Carter,  with  his 
mouth  spread  and  his  cries  deafening  the  congregation,  rose  be- 
fore my  mind,  and  the  ludicrous  scene  again  upset  my  gravity, 
and  I  laughed  long  and  convulsively.  I  left  the  meeting,  at 
which  I  had  hoped  to  be  converted,  with  an  alarming  apprehen- 
sion that  my  day  of  grace  had  passed. 

I  was  becoming  acquainted  with  my  own  heart  and  my  guilt 
before  God.  In  the  beginning  of  my  religious  exercises  my  heart 
was  quite  tender.  I  felt  deeply,  and  wept  frequently  and  profuse- 
ly. Soon,  however,  my  heart  seemed  to  grow  as  cold  as  ice  and 
as  hard  as  flint.  Nothing  was  capable  of  moving  it.  I  desired 
to  weep,  because  I  confounded  weeping  and  repentance.  To  move 
my  heart  and  draw  forth  my  tears,  I  meditated  on  the  purity, 
majesty  and  goodness  of  God,  the  evil  of  sin,  the  solemnity  of 
death,  the  terribleness  of  a  future  judgment,  the  joys  of  heaven, 
the  woes  of  perdition  and  the  sufferings  of  the  Son  of  God,  but 
none  of  these  things  moved  me.  Nor  was  this  all.  I  found  in 
my  heart  evils  of  whose  existence  I  had  not  dreamed.  I  discov- 
ered truly  that  it  was  deceitful  above  all  things.  Deceit  mingled 
with  my  confessions  of  sin,  my  prayers  and  my  tears.  I  could 
not  get  rid  of  it.  It  haunted  me  like  a  ghost.  I  seemed  to  be 
aiming  to  deceive,  not  only  my  fellow-men,  but  God.  I  drew 
nigh  to  him  with  my  mouth,  and  honored  him  with  my  lips,  while 
my  heart  was  far  from  him.  I  offered  him  sacrifices  which  I 
knew  he  would  not  and  could  not  receive. 

Nor  was  this  the  worst.  In  spite  of  all  my  efforts  to  prevent 
it,  the  most  corrupt  and  blasphemous  thoughts  would  nestle  in 
my  bosom.  They  were  such  as  I  had  no  recollection  of  having 
had  before,  such  as  I  dared  not  to  reveal  to  my  most  intimate 
friend,  and  such  as  could  find  a  lodgment  only  in  a  depraved 
heart.  These  evil  thoughts,  sad  to  say,  haunted  me  most  when 
I  attempted  to  pray,  or  to  read  and  study  the  word  of  God.  The 
proofs  of  my  depravity  cured  me  of  my  self-righteousness.  I 
despaired  of  salvation  by  my  own  works.  Indeed,  after  weeks  of 
anxiety,  watchfulness,  prayer  and  mourning,  I  seemed  to  be  much 


HIS  CONVERSION.  79 

farther  from  salvation  than  I  was  at  the  first.  All  hope  of  mak- 
ing myself  worthy  for  Christ  to  receive  me  died  within  me. 

About  this  time,  hearing  of  the  conversion  of  a  young  female 
friend,  who  was  awakened  some  weeks  after  I  was,  it  seemed  a 
reasonable  conclusion  that  I  had  missed  the  road  to  heaven.  The 
farther  I  traveled  the  more  gloomy  seemed  to  be  the  prospect  of 
reaching  the  end  of  my  journey.  My  ambitious  purpose  of  out- 
stripping my  companions  in  the  celestial  race  was  not  only  aban- 
doned, but  remembered  with  shame.  Whoever  would  might 
enter  into  the  kingdom  ;  if  I  could  only  be  the  least  and  the  last 
to  enter  it,  I  should  enjoy  a  privilege  infinitely  beyond  my  merit, 
and  have  cause  for  unspeakable  and  everlasting  gratitude. 

About  two  months  after  the  memorable  meeting  at  Hatcher's 
meeting-house  I  attended  a  night  meeting  in  a  private  house 
near  the  same  place.  My  recollections  of  the  meeting  are  lim- 
ited entirely  to  my  own  exercises.  A  song  was  sung,  which  I  do 
not  remember  to  have  heard  before  or  since.  It  was  poor  poetry, 
and,  no  doubt,  poorly  sung  ;  but  it  made  an  indelible  impression 
on  my  mind.     I  can  remember  but  a  part  of  a  single  stanza. 

It  is  this  : 

"  Come,  all  you  tender-hearted  Christians, 
Oh,  come  and  help  me  for  to  mourn  ; 
To  see  the  Son  of  God  a  bleeding, 
And  his  precious  body  torn." 

The  words  arrested  my  attention,  and  turned  my  mind  into  a 
new  train  of  thought.  Is  it  possible,  I  inquired,  that  the  Son  of 
God  suffered  and  died  for  such  a  corrupt  and  guilty  creature  as 
I  am  ?  The  grace  appeared  too  great.  I  was  utterly  undeserv- 
ing such  favor.  It  seemed  a  pity  that  so  great  a  sinner  as  I 
should  be  the  recipient  of  so  rich  a  blessing.  While  I  meditated 
on  the  subject,  my  heart,  long  cold  and  insensible,  was  dissolved 
in  unfeigned  sorrow — sorrow  that  I  had  sinned  against  Christ, 
so  great,  so  good  and  so  condescending ;  and  my  eyes,  for  weeks 
unused  to  weeping,  became  a  fountain  of  tears.  I  had  no  fur- 
ther controversy  with  God.  He  was  infinitely  wise,  pure  and 
kind,  and  worthy  of  my  supreme  confidence,  reverence  and  love. 
His  law  was  holy,  just  and  good,  and  should  be  obeyed  by  every 
intelligent  creature.  Sin  was  a  wrong,  a  folly  and  a  mischief, 
calling  for  sorrow  and  reformation. 


80  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

One  point  was  settled,  so  far  as  aught  could  be  settled  by  a 
creature  like  myself.  I  would  sin  no  more,  if  watchfulness, 
prayer  and  an  earnest  purpose  could  preserve  me  from  sinning. 
Whether  I  should  be  saved  was  doubtful ;  but  if  my  fearful 
doom  were  sealed,  I  would  endeavor  not  to  aggravate  it  by  mul- 
tiplying my  transgressions  and  augmenting  my  guilt.  If  I 
should  be  saved,  through  God's  infinite  mercy,  of  all  the  race 
that  fell,  or  all  the  heavenly  host,  I  should  have  the  greatest 
cause  for  gratitude  and  praise.  I  left  the  meeting  in  a  very 
different  state  of  mind  from  that  in  which  I  entered  it.  I  did 
not  suppose  that  I  was  converted — I  feared  that  I  should  never 
be — but  there  was  sweetness  in  my  tears,  and  my  sorrows  were 
soothing  and  led  me  to  suppose  that  my  condition  was  not  abso- 
lutely hopeless. 

Two  or  three  days  after  this  time  I  attended  a  night  meeting 
fifteen  or  twenty  miles  from  my  home,  at  the  foot  of  the  southern 
slope  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  near  the  point  at  which  it  is  now  crossed 
by  the  Virginia  and  Tennessee  Railroad.  Of  this  meeting,  as 
of  the  preceding,  I  remember  nothing  but  what  occurred  in  my 
own  breast.  The  preaching,  the  praying  and  the  singing  were 
all,  doubtless,  good ;  but  my  thoughts  were  concentrated  on  my 
own  unfortunate  condition.  As  instructed  by  one  of  my  relig- 
ious guides,  the  Rev.  William  Leftwich,  I  had  often  attempted 
to  adopt  the  words  of  the  father  of  the  demoniac  child :  "  Lord, 
I  believe  ;  help  thou  my  unbelief."  I  dared  not  utter  the  words. 
I  feared  that  it  would  be  hypocrisy,  and  augment  my  guilt,  if  I 
should  repeat  them.  I  would  hardly  speak  extravagantly  if  I 
should  say  that  I  made  a  thousand  unsuccessful  attempts  to  utter 
them.  The  sentence  invariably  changed  in  my  lips  to,  "  Lord,  I 
would  believe;  help  thou  my  unbelief."  On  this  night,  in  the 
midst  of  the  religious  services,  but  entirely  independent  of  them, 
it  seemed  to  me  that  I  could  heartily  adopt  the  language  of  the 
afflicted  father.  Mentally,  I  called  over  the  words :  "  Lord,  I 
believe,"  etc.  Instantly  my  conscience  smote  me.  I  feared  that 
I  did  not  believe,  and  my  words  were  deceitful.  If  that  were 
believing,  there  had  been  no  need  for  the  long  and  painful  con- 
flict through  which  I  had  passed.  I  might  as  well  and  as  easily 
have  believed  at  first.     This  certainly  was  not  the  kind  of  faith 


HIS  CONVERSION.  81 

which  I  had  been  expecting  and  endeavoring  to  exercise.  After 
all  my  doubts  and  reasoning,  the  impression  came  over  me  that 
I  did  believe,  and  I  repeated  the  words  with  emphasis :  "  Lord, 
I  do  believe;  help  thou  my  unbelief."  The  burden  of  guilt  and 
anxiety,  which  I  had  borne  so  long,  instantly  departed.  My 
mind  was  in  a  calm,  pleasing  frame,  which  to  me  was  inexplica- 
ble, and  which  I  was  not  careful  to  analyze. 

For  several  months  my  sleep  had  been  disturbed  and  uncom- 
fortable; but  that  night  I  slept  as  if  I  had  been  in  paradise. 
No  wave  of  trouble  rolled  across  my  peaceful  breast.  In  the 
morning  I  arose  early,  greatly  refreshed,  and  walked  out  to  enjoy 
the  balmy  air  and  gaze  on  the  surrounding  scenery.  The  sun 
rose  in  cloudless  splendor.  Never  before  had  he  seemed  so  bright 
and  beautiful.  He  was  radiant  with  the  uncreated  glories  of  his 
Maker.  His  rising  beams,  caught  first  by  the  mountain-tops, 
gradually  descended  into  the  valleys,  clothing  the  autumnal  for- 
ests with  a  golden  hue.  The  scenery  was  naturally  lovely  and 
sublime ;  but  such  mountains,  valleys  and  forests  I  had  never 
seen  before.  All  nature  seemed  to  proclaim  the  wisdom,  power 
and  goodness  of  God.  The  mountains  and  the  hills,  the  brooks 
and  the  vales,  broke  forth  in  songs  of  praise  to  their  Creator ; 
and  all  the  trees  of  the  forests  clapped  their  hands  for  joy.  Be- 
fore I  was  aware  I  had  joined  the  rapturous  anthem.  My  heart 
was  overflowing  with  gratitude,  love  and  joy,  and  longed  to  give 
utterance  to  its  emotions.  My  conscience  told  me  that  I  was  a 
poor,  guilty,  condemned  sinner,  and  had  no  right  to  praise  God ; 
but  my  feelings  triumphed  over  its  remonstrances.  Whatever 
might  be  my  doom,  I  resolved  to  praise  him  for  past  mercies,  and 
that  I  was  not  then  in  perdition,  whither  I  had  so  long  deserved 
to  be  sent. 

I  strolled  to  a  retired  spot,  at  the  head  of  a  ravine,  where  I 
might  engage  in  secret  prayer.  I  had  unanticipated  freedom  in 
the  exercise.  Till  that  hour  I  had  never  offered  a  petition  for 
any  being  but  myself.  That  morning  I  prayed  for  my  parents, 
my  brother  and  sisters,  my  remoter  kindred,  my  friends,  and  I 
continued  to  extend  the  circle  of  my  intercession  until  it  com- 
prehended the  whole  world.  My  prayer  was  a  mystery  to  me. 
I  had  intended  to  pray,  as  I  had  ever  before  done,  simply  for 

6 


82  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

myself;  but  my  feelings  had  borne  me  quite  beyond  tbe  limit 
prescribed  by  my  judgment. 

As  I  was  returning  to  the  house,  where  I  had  been  hospitably 
entertained,  no  little  perplexed  about  my  new,  strange  and  in- 
explicable emotions,  I  met  Elder  Harris,  my  venerable  religious 
instructor,  who  was  staying  with  me  in  the  same  family.  He 
kindly  inquired  after  my  religious  condition.  I  told  him,  as  well 
as  I  could,  the  exercises  of  my  mind,  as  stated  above.  "  You 
are  converted,"  said  he.  This  was  a  revelation  to  me.  I  had 
not  even  suspected  that  I  was  converted.  I  had  hoped  that  my 
exercises  were  favorable  and  might  lead  on  to  conversion ;  but 
I  had  not  experienced  such  a  conversion  as  I  had  heard  de- 
scribed, or  as  I  had  been  seeking.  I  had  heard  no  voice,  seen 
no  light,  felt  no  shock  and  had  no  strange  manifestation.  I  was 
willing,  aye,  and  resolved,  to  forsake  my  sins  and  serve  Christ ; 
but  conversion  must  be  something  more  wonderful  than  this. 
Elder  Harris  commenced  and  related  to  me  his  experience.  It 
bore  a  striking  resemblance  to  my  own.  Of  the  genuineness  of 
his  conversion  I  had  no  doubt.  As  my  exercises  bore  a  strong 
likeness  to  his,  I  could  but  cherish  the  hope  that  I  might  be  a 
subject  of  renewing  grace.  The  chief  difficulty  I  found  in  ac- 
cepting this  conclusion  was  in  my  utter  unworthiness  of  a  bless- 
ing so  glorious.  I  cannot  better  express  my  bewilderment  than 
in  the  language  of  one  of  Watts'  excellent  hymns : 

"  When  God  revealed  his  gracious  name, 
And  changed  my  mournful  state, 
My  rapture  seemed  a  pleasing  dream, 
The  grace  appeared  so  great." 

In  the  uncertainty  of  my  condition,  I  resolved  to  conceal  from 
my  friends  the  dim  and  questionable  hope  which  I  had  found  ; 
but  the  resolution  was  not  easily  carried  into  effect.  For  months 
my  face  had  been  covered  with  a  cloud,  which  no  smile,  except 
in  some  unguarded  moment,  had  been  permitted  to  brighten. 
To  preserve  the  gloom  of  my  countenance  was  impossible.  The 
gratitude,  hope  and  joy  of  my  heart  broke  out  in  smiles  and 
tears  as  I  met  the  pious  friends  who  had  so  long  sympathized 
with  me  and  prayed  for  me.     I  did  not  need  to  tell  them  that 


HIS  CONVERSION.  83 

my  burden  had  been  removed,  and  that  the  dark  night  of  con- 
viction had  been  succeeded  by  the  cheering  dawn  of  hope.  The 
tearful  eye  and  the  warm  grasp  of  the  hand  told  the  story  more 
eloquently  than  words  could  have  done. 

More  than  half  a  century  has  passed  since  I  had  the  expe- 
rience that  I  have  imperfectly  related,  and  the  reader  may  de- 
sire to  know  my  estimate  of  it  after  the  studies,  observations  and 
trials  of  a  long  life,  and  I  will  cheerfully  gratify  the  desire. 
Much  of  my  experience  was  circumstantial  and  not  essential ; 
some  things  which  then  seemed  important  I  have  learned  are  of 
little  value,  and  some  things  appear  now  to  be  of  greater  conse- 
quence than  they  did  then ;  but  in  its  chief  elements,  I  deem  it 
to  be  sound  and  evangelical.  At  any  rate,  I  would  not  exchange 
it,  with  the  influence  it  has  had  on  me,  and  through  me  on 
others,  for  all  the  wealth  and  all  the  honors  of  the  world.  Con- 
viction of  sin,  godly  sorrow,  reformation,  despair  of  salvation  by 
works,  trust  in  Christ,  love  to  him,  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost ;  in 
short,  an  experience  which  comprehends  the  struggles  of  a  soul 
in  passing  from  death  unto  life  — are  indispensable  to  the  exist- 
ence of  genuine  piety,  and  a  reasonable  hope  of  eternal  life 


CHAPTER   V. 

PUTTING  ON  THE  AEMOE. 

DR.  JETER'S  account  of  his  entrance  into  the 
ministry,  which  will  appear  in  this  chapter,  is 
so  full  and  satisfactory  that  I  am  happily  re- 
lieved from  the  duty  of  adding  much  to  the  story. 
He  was  baptized  in  the  North  Fork  of  Otter,  the 
first  Sunday  in  December,  1821.  The  scene  of  the 
baptism  is  located  at  the  point  where  that  stream  is 
crossed  by  the  public  road  leading  from  Mt.  Hermon 
Church  to  the  little  village  of  Otterville.  It  is  a  sin- 
gularly beautiful  spot.  The  mountain  creek  at  that 
point  is  about  twenty  feet  in  width  and  flows  through 
a  narrow  valley  with  lofty  hills  on  either  side.  It 
is  well-nigh  hidden  from  public  view  by  the  alders, 
willows  and  poplars  which  fringe  it  on  either  side. 
There  is  a  large  rock  which  juts  into  the  current  and 
so  blocks  the  tide  as  to  make  a  sufficient  depth  for 
baptismal  purposes.  More  than  once  I  have  stood, 
on  the  calm  Sabbath  morning,  upon  that  rock  and 
witnessed  baptisms.  The  old  pastor,  William  Har- 
ris, would  read  the  Scriptures,  oifer  a  brief  prayer, 
and  then,  with  cane  in  hand,  feel  his  way  along  the 
rocky  bed  of  the  stream  until  he  found  a  sufficient 
depth  and  then  signal  for  the  candidates  to  follow. 
The  sympathetic  and  tearful  group  on  the  shore 
84 


PUTTING  ON  THE  ARMOR.  85 

would  sing :  "  We  are  going  to  join  in  the  army  of 
the  Lord."  One  by  one  the  happy  converts  would 
be  buried  with  Christ  in  baptism  and  then  emerge 
from  the  waters  with  radiant  countenances  and 
sometimes  with  exultant  shouts.  There,  on  a  winter's 
day,  young  Jeter  was  baptized.  It  was  to  him  a 
great  event — the  crisis  of  his  career,  and  he  always 
recalled  it  with  profound  emotion.  Indeed,  he 
seemed  averse  to  relating  the  story  of  his  conversion, 
except  when  his  soul  was  aglow  with  unwonted 
spiritual  fire,  and  he  told  it  then  in  the  hope  of  help- 
ing others  who  were  inquiring  the  way. 

I  have  mentioned  that  he  was  baptized  by  Elder  Har- 
ris, and  for  that  old  servant  of  God  he  always  cherished 
the  most  grateful  affection.  It  was  impossible  to 
know  "  Father  Harris,"  as  the  Bedford  people  called 
him,  without  revering  and  loving  him.  What  a 
noble  type  of  Christian  manhood !  In  form  he  was 
lofty,  round  and  erect.  His  eye,  blue  as  the  sky, 
seemed  always  enkindled  with  a  gentle  and  tender 
love.  His  hair,  soft  as  the  fleece  and  white  as  the 
snow,  touched  his  shoulders.  His  voice  was  the 
music  of  the  harp,  and  when  it  floated  out,  freighted 
with  the  heavenly  message,  not  even  hearts  of  stone 
could  withstand  it.  In  his  movements,  grace  and 
dignity  seemed  to  blend.  His  dress  was  faultless — 
his  suit  of  black,  his  white  cravat  and  his  spreading 
collar.  From  beneath  the  flap  of  his  coat-pocket,  al- 
ways peered  his  pipe-stem,  except  when  in  his  mouth, 
and  positively  it  was  a  benediction  to  note  the  gentle, 
restful  way  with  which,  after  his  sermon,  the  old  man, 
with  the  aid  of  spunk  and  flint,  would  light  his  clay 


86  LIFE  OF"  JEREMfAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

pipe,  and  stroll  quietly  out  into  the  forest.  In  genius 
and  culture  he  was  not  an  equal  of  Jeter,  but  in 
purity,  meekness,  and  heavenly  wisdom,  he  was  the 
peer  of  any.  His  meat  and  drink  was  "  to  do  the 
will  of  God."  He  had  no  ambition  except  to  glorify 
Christ,  and  no  resentments  except  against  the  ene- 
mies of  his  Lord.  Dr.  Jeter  sometimes  said,  in 
pleasantry,  that  Elder  Harris  called  him  to  the  min- 
istry, and,  indeed,  he  mentions  it  in  his  "  Recollec- 
tions "  as  a  matter  of  history.  This  does  not  mean 
that  Dr.  Jeter  did  not  believe  in  the  divine  element 
in  the  ministerial  call,  but  simply  that  "  Father  Har- 
ris "  discovered  in  him  the  preaching  gift,  even  be- 
fore he  was  made  conscious  of  his  duty.  This  faculty 
or  grace  which  the  old  man  possessed,  by  which  he 
was  enabled  to  discover  the  adaptations  of  young 
men,  and  to  interpret  to  them  their  own  convictions, 
was  one  of  his  most  striking  characteristics.  He 
seemed  to  possess  an  intuitive  power  for  finding  those 
whom  the  Lord  had  chosen  for  himself.  He  would 
lay  his  hand  upon  the  heads  of  little  children,  and 
with  a  sort  of  prophetic  authority  mark  them  for  the 
ministry.  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  proper  for 
me,  when  in  a  former  chapter  I  was  seeking  to  ac- 
count for  the  fact  that  so  many  Bedford  young  men 
entered  the  ministry,  to  have  said  that  it  was  be- 
cause "  Father  Harris "  lived  there.  I  was  often 
with  him  and  knew  him  well,  and  yet  I  never  heard 
him  speak  of  the  fact  that  he  had  baptized  so  many 
of  the  preachers.  He  baptized  Witt  and  Jeter,  and 
although  they  were  in  the  zenith  of  their  fame  when 
I  was  most  intimate  with  him,  he  never  alluded  to 


PUTTING  ON  THE  ARMOR.  87 

the  fact  that  he  was  so  closely  connected  with  their 
early  religious  lives.  He  loved  and  admired  them, 
but  seemed  to  be  thoroughly  unconscious  of  having 
had  anything  to  do  with  their  character  or  usefulness. 

It  may  seem  surprising  that  young  Jeter  began  to 
preach  so  soon  after  his  conversion,  and  also  that  so 
ignorant  a  boy  should  have  so  soon  become  an  ef- 
fective preacher.  Let  it  be  remembered  that  from 
his  childhood  he  was  singularly  thoughtful  and  a  con- 
stant reader  of  the  Bible.  My  uncle,  who  was  the 
companion  of  his  youth,  related  to  me  an  incident 
which  finely  illustrates  at  once  this  young  man's 
eagerness  to  excel  and  his  passion  for  reading. 

When  he  was  a  mere  stripling  he  went  one  day  to 
assist  in  a  wheat  harvest.  He  brought  his  cradle 
with  him  and  took  his  place  with  the  reapers.  When 
everything  was  in  readiness  to  begin  work,  this 
audacious  youngster  leaped  to  the  front  and  took  the 
lead  in  the  race  of  the  harvesters.  The  old  cradlers 
sneered  at  his  presumption  and  predicted  that  their 
young  rival  would  soon  lose  his  place.  They  knew 
not  the  spirit  which  reigned  within  him.  He  was 
born  for  leadership,  and  it  was  not  possible  for  him 
to  surrender  while  there  was  life.  All  through  the 
morning,  beneath  the  glare  of  a  summer's  sun,  the 
contest  went  on,  and  the  sweating  racers  bent  to 
their  work.  Far  out  to  the  front  steadily  swept  on 
this  boy,  at  the  head  of  the  line,  never  yielding  his 
place  till  the  sun  touched  the  zenith  and  the  horn 
blew  the  signal  for  dinner.  Then  throwing  down 
his  cradle,  and  springing  high  in  the  air,  he  shouted 
in  wild,  boyish  glee,  over  his  victory.     When  they 


88  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

returned  to  the  house  for  dinner  and  the  harvesters 
stretched  themselves  on  the  grass  for  rest  and  talk, 
young  Jeter  was  gone.  When  discovered,  he  was 
alone,  deeply  absorbed  in  reading  the  Bible.  This 
was  before  his  conversion,  and  it  is  more  than  likely 
that  he  was  reading  the  Bible,  not  so  much  because 
he  preferred  it,  but  because  it  was  the  only  book  in 
his  reach.  The  Bible  was  one  of  his  text-books  at 
school,  and  so  it  came  to  pass,  that  when  at  twenty,  he 
was  converted,  he  possessed  considerable  acquaintance 
with  the  histories  and  doctrines  of  that  holy  book. 

Another  fact  must  be  taken  into  account.  He 
possessed  an  ardent  and  fearless  spirit.  He  felt 
strongly,  and  what  he  felt  he  was  not  afraid  to  speak. 
His  conversion  was  thorough,  decided  and  joyful. 
His  soul  was  on  fire  with  the  love  of  Christ,  and  he 
felt  a  boundless  desire  to  honor  him.  He  loved  his 
kindred  and  neighbors,  and  as  soon  as  he  found  the 
heavenly  way,  the  impulse  to  bring  them  also,  over- 
mastered him.  It  was  on  a  December  day  that  he 
was  baptized  in  the  chill  waters  of  the  Little  Otter ; 
but  he  tells  us,  that  as  he  emerged  from  the  water 
he  sprang  to  the  shore  and  delivered  his  first  sermon. 
The  old  people  said  that  he  shouted,  by  which  I  sup- 
pose they  meant  simply  that  he  broke  out  in  exult- 
ant praise  of  his  Redeemer,  and  as  according  to  the 
custom  of  the  times,  he  shook  hands  with  the  spec- 
tators on  the  bank,  he  commended  to  them  his 
newly-found  Saviour.  For  such  a  boy,  so  intense  in 
his  nature,  so  ravished  with  the  love  of  God,  and  so 
full  of  hope  and  joy,  it  was  an  easy  thing  to  tell  the 
gospel  story. 


PUTTING  ON  THE  ARMOR.  89 

He  conferred  not  with  flesh  and  blood ;  he  was 
unabashed  by  a  sense  of  ignorance  or  awkwardness ; 
he  waited  not  for  mental  discipline  or  theological 
training,  but  went  forth  proclaiming  the  good  news, 
and  before  he  knew  it,  was  a  preacher.  By  almost  a 
single  bound  he  rose  from  the  plow  to  the  pulpit. 
That  sweet  seraphic  light  which  glowed  upon  his 
boyish  face  never  went  out,  but  shone  with  softened 
beauty,  even  when  he  lay  dead  in  his  coffin.  That 
shout  which  broke  from  his  lips  at  his  baptism,  and 
rolled  along  the  mountain  vale,  instead  of  dying, 
deepened  into  an  anthem  of  thanksgiving  and  joy, 
which  sounded  through  all  his  life.  That  tearful  ex- 
hortation which  he  spoke  to  his  rustic  neighbors  on 
the  icy  edge  of  the  river  was  the  first  blast  of  a 
trumpet  whose  solemn  notes  were  heard  for  sixty 
years,  and  on  two  continents,  and  whose  echoes  will 
be  slow  to  die. 

Here  is  the  account  of  his  entrance  into  the  min- 
istry : 

MY  ENTRANCE  INTO  THE  MINISTRY. 

I  do  not  remember  when  I  first  began  to  preach.  In  my  boy- 
hood I  was  accustomed  to  repeat,  at  the  handle  of  my  plow,  the 
sermon  on  Monday,  with  all  its  intonations,  which  I  had  heard  on 
Sunday.  This  I  did,  not  from  any  special  fondness  for  preach- 
ing, or  any  expectation  that  I  should  become  a  preacher,  but 
merely  because  it  was  the  most  pleasant  intellectual  exercise 
within  my  reach.  Having  access  to  few  books  suited  to  interest 
and  improve  my  mind,  I  was  glad  to  repeat,  as  an  amusement, 
such  sermons  as  I  heard. 

Having  made  a  profession  of  faith  in  Christ,  I  had  no  hesi- 
tancy in  deciding  on  the  manner  of  my  baptism.  When  I  was  a 
small  boy,  I  learned  that  there  was  a  controversy  between  Bap- 
tists and  Pedobaptists  concerning  the  mode  of  its  administration. 


90  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Just  as  I  was  learning  to  read  in  the  New  Testament,  I  came  to 
the  account  of  the  baptism  of  the  Ethiopian  treasurer,  in  the  Acts 
of  the  Apostles.  I  read  it  with  amazement.  In  my  simplicity  I 
supposed  that  it  had  never  been  discovered  by  the  disputants  on 
baptism.  This  passage,  I  thought,  must  surely  end  the  contro- 
versy. I  ran  to  my  mother  in  great  excitement,  saying :  "  Ma, 
the  Baptists  are  right.  I  have  found  a  place  which  shows  that 
they  are  right."  From  that  day  to  this  I  have  never  doubted 
that  immersion  was  the  primitive  baptism.  On  the  first  Lord's 
day  of  December,  1821,  I-was  baptized  by  Elder  William  Harris 
in  the  North  Fork  of  Otter  River,  near  the  place  of  my  abode. 
My  first  religious  address  was  delivered  on  the  bank  of  the  stream, 
immediately  on  my  emerging  from  it.  It  was  impulsive,  unpre- 
meditated and  without  method,  but  it  was  earnest,  and  impressed 
by  its  novelty,  if  nothing  else,  my  neighbors  and  companions.  Had 
I  been  wiser,  it  had  probably  not  been  delivered ;  but,  timely  or 
untimely,  it  was  the  beginning  of  my  ministry 

During  the  winter  I  was  several  times  invited  to  speak  in 
prayer-meetings  and  at  the  close  of  sermons,  and  I  performed  the 
service  without  embarrassment  and  seemingly  to  the  acceptance 
of  my  hearers. 

I  was  called  more  formally  to  the  ministry  by  my  venerated 
pastor,  on  the  night  of  the  15th  of  January,  1822.  A  meeting 
had  been  appointed  at  a  Mr.  Lockett's,  in  the  gorge  between  the 
Flat  Top  and  Suck  Mountains.  The  congregation  attending  was 
small,  and  composed  of  plain,  uncritical  mountaineers.  I  had  no 
more  expectation  of  preaching  than  of  a  visit  to  the  moon,  when 
my  excellent  father  in  the  gospel  said  to  me :  "  You  must  preach 
to-night."  I  hesitated,  but  he  insisted,  and  I,  having  boundless 
confidence  in  his  piety  and  wisdom,  consented  to  perform  the  ser- 
vice. After  an  experience  in  the  ministry  of  more  than  half  a 
century,  I  should  be  very  reluctant  now  to  preach  without  more 
time  for  preparation ;  but  in  fifteen  minutes  after  I  was  called  to 
the  ministry  I  entered  on  its  duties.  I  selected  for  my  text  2 
Cor.  vi.  2:  "Behold,  now  is  the  accepted  time;  behold,  now  is 
the  day  of  salvation."  My  sermon  was  about  thirty  minutes 
long,  delivered  with  composure,  without  much  feeling,  and  cer- 
tainly with  little  method  or  force.     I  was  neither  elated  nor  de- 


PUTTING  ON  THE  ARMOR.  91 

pressed  by  it.  It  seemed  to  be  such  an  effort  as  might  reasonably 
be  expected  from  one  so  illiterate  and  inexperienced  as  I  was. 

The  next  day  a  meeting  was  to  be  held  at  Mr.  Palmer's,  a  few 
miles  from  the  place  of  my  first  sermon,  and  in  a  more  populous 
neighborhood.  My  revered  bishop  ordered  that  I  should  preach 
again,  which  I  was  not  loth  to  do.  The  morning  I  spent  in 
earnest  preparation  for  the  service.  I  read  the  Scriptures,  prayed, 
studied  and  came  to  the  work  with  a  profound  sense  of  my  weak- 
ness and  unworthiness.  On  reaching  the  place  of  preaching  I 
found  a  large  congregation,  composed  chiefly  of  my  acquaint- 
ances and  friends,  and  among  them  my  mother,  not  then  a  pro- 
fessor of  religion.  I  was  appalled  at  the  prospect  of  preaching 
before  such  an  audience,  but  I  had  proceeded  too  far  to  retrace 
my  steps.  I  took  for  my  text  2  Cor.  viii.  9  :  "  For  ye  know  the 
grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that,  though  he  was  rich,  yet  for 
your  sakes  he  became  poor,  that  ye  through  his  poverty  might  be 
rich."  No  doubt  I  have  preached  many  a  sermon  more  method- 
ical, more  lucid  in  style,  more  original  in  thought  and  less  faulty 
in  taste,  but  I  seriously  question  whether  I  have  ever  delivered 
one  better  suited  to  interest,  impress  and  profit  a  plain  audience. 
It  was  heard  with  unwavering  attention  and  many  tears. 

The  sermon  was  to  me  the  occasion  of  a  great  temptation  and 
a  mortifying  failure.  Some  of  my  indiscreet  friends  spoke  to  me 
in  terms  of  high  praise  of  it.  They  might  well  have  spared  them- 
selves the  trouble.  My  own  heart  assured  me  that  I  had  preached 
a  wonderful  discourse.  On  this  assumption  I  reasoned,  as  I 
judged,  most  logically.  If  from  my  first  to  my  second  discourse 
I  had  made  such  surprising  progress,  to  what  rapturous  heights  I 
must  soar  in  my  third  sermon.  That  night  there  was  to  be  a 
meeting  at  the  house  of  the  pastor,  near  Liberty,  where  I  was 
particularly  anxious  to  acquit  myself  creditably.  It  was  decided 
that  I  should  preach  again,  but,  having  succeeded  so  well  in  the 
morning  I  dismissed  all  care  on  the  subject,  supposing  that  I 
would  only  have  to  stand  up  and  open  my  mouth,  and  thoughts 
and  words,  pertinent  to  the  occasion,  would  flow  freely. 

The  congregation  was  full,  and  it  was  arranged  to  have  two 
sermons.  The  first  was  preached  by  Rev.  P.  P.  Smith,  of  Buck- 
ingham County,  a  nephew  of  Elder  Harris.     I  was  to  follow.  My 


92  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

text  was  Psalm  cxlvi.  8 :  "  The  Lord  openeth  the  eyes  of  the 
blind  :  the  Lord  raiseth  them  that  are  bowed  down :  the  Lord 
loveth  the  righteous."  I  stood,  but  my  eyes  were  not  opened.  I 
opened  my  mouth,  but  words  did  not  flow.  I  made  a  desperate 
effort  to  speak,  and  continued  to  babble  six  or  eight  minutes,  and 
then  took  my  seat  in  utter  confusion  and  deep  mortification.  I 
would  gladly  have  sunk  beneath  the  floor,  or  concealed  myself  in 
an  auger  hole,  had  it  been  possible,  but  there  I  sat  exposed  to  the 
view  of  all  the  congregation,  none  of  whom  could  have  had  a 
stronger  conviction  of  my  stupidity  than  I  had  myself.  My 
ministry,  as  I  supposed,  had  come  to  an  early  and  inglorious  end. 
I  had  become  a  wiser,  if  not  a  better  man.  From  that  hour  to 
this  I  have  never  dreamed  that  religious  knowledge  is  gained  in 
arithmetical  progression. 

The  next  day  I  was  again  persuaded  to  try  my  gift  at  preach- 
ing in  another  neighborhood.  I  acceded  to  the  request  the  more 
readily  to  redeem  myself  from  the  disgrace  incurred  by  the  fail- 
ure of  the  preceding  night.  I  was  cured,  at  least  for  a  time,  of 
my  self-confidence,  and  entered  on  the  service  with  painful  anxiety 
and  trembling  in  every  joint.  My  success  was  such  as  to  soothe 
my  shame  for  the  past  failure,  and  inspire  me  with  hope  for  the 
future. 

I  continued  to  preach  from  time  to  time,  as  opportunities 
offered,  sometimes  with  freedom  and  pleasure,  and  not  unfrequently 
with  confusion  and  shame.  I  glided  into  the  ministry,  without 
carefully  inquiring  whether  I  had  been  divinely  called  to  it. 
After  some  months  my  mind  became  quite  anxious  on  the  subject. 
I  feared  that  I  had  run  before  I  was  called.  My  call,  if  call  I 
had,  seemed  to  differ  widely  from  that  of  many  of  the  old  preach- 
ers. They  represented,  or  seemed  to  represent,  that  they  had 
been  constrained  to  enter  the  ministry  sorely  against  their  wills. 
The  words  of  the  apostle  were  often  on  their  lips :  "  Necessity  is 
laid  upon  me ;  yea,  woe  is  unto  me,  if  I  preach  not  the  gospel !  " 
Unfortunately  for  me,  as  I  supposed,  I  had  a  wish  to  preach  the 
gospel.  Of  all  employments,  preaching  seemed  to  me  to  be  the 
most  desirable  and  the  most  honorable.  I  preferred  being  a 
preacher,  poor,  despised  and  persecuted,  to  being  a  king  or  an 
emperor.     I  might  have  found  in  the  context  of  the  oft-quoted 


PUTTING  ON  THE  ARMOR.  93 

Scripture  a  corrective  of  my  error.  The  apostle  adds  to  the 
threatened  woe  of  failing  to  preach  the  gospel  the  promised  re- 
ward of  preaching  it  cheerfully  :  "  If  I  do  this  thing  (preach  the 
gospel)  willingly  I  have  a  reward."  Neglecting  to  examine  the 
passage  in  its  connection,  I  missed  the  instruction  which  it  con- 
tained. It  was  several  years  before  my  mind  was  entirely  relieved 
of  its  doubts  and  anxieties  by  the  words  of  Paul :  "  If  any  man 
desire  the  office  of  a  bishop,  he  desireth  a  good  work."  If  a  de- 
sire for  the  episcopal  office  was  a  qualification  for  it,  I  certainly 
had  that.  I  dared  not  affirm  that  my  desire  was  free  from  selfish 
and  worldly  considerations,  but  of  its  sincerity  and  earnestness, 
and  that  it  originated  in  Scriptural  views  of  the  duties  and  design 
of  the  office,  I  had  no  question.  From  the  hour  that  I  discerned 
the  bearing  of  that  text  on  the  subject,  I  have  had  no  more  doubt 
of  my  call  to  the  ministry  than  I  have  had  of  the  genuineness  of 
my  piety. 

It  is  well  known  that  Dr.  Jeter  wrote  his  "  Recol- 
lections" at  the  earnest  solicitation  of  others.  He 
undertook  the  task  with  serious  misgivings.  He  said 
that  old  age  was  notoriously  garrulous  and  egotistic, 
and  he  was  anxious  to  save  himself  from  such  a 
temptation.  As  he  really  never  grew  old  in  spirit, 
retaining,  in  a  wonderful  degree,  the  spring  and  ar- 
dor of  his  nature  even  to  the  last,  he  never  betrayed 
any  excessive  fondness  for  talking  of  himself.  Be- 
sides, he  lived  in  such  thorough  sympathy  with  the 
present,  that  he  was  not  specially  given  to  the  habit 
of  recalling  the  incidents  of  the  past.  I  think  that 
he  was  needlessly  cautious  and  sensitive  about  his 
personal  recollections,  and  when  he  speaks  of  himself 
it  is  always  in  terms  so  mild  and  diffident  that  he 
hardly  does  justice  to  the  facts.  We  have  an  illustra- 
tion in  his  reference  to  his  second  sermon, — that 
preached  at  the  residence  of  Mr.  Palmer.     It  is  true 


94  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

that  he  alludes  to  it  in  terms  which  sufficiently  indi- 
cate that  he  thought  quite  well  of  his  performance. 
Father  Harris  told  me  that  the  sermon  produced  a 
phenomenal  impression.  Its  effect  defied  all  descrip- 
tion. It  thrilled  the  audience  into  the  wildest  ex- 
citement, and  those  simple-hearted  mountaineers 
instantly  sprang  to  the  conclusion  that  there  never 
had  been  so  great  a  preacher  as  they  had  discovered 
in  this  fiery  and  impetuous  youth. 

He  also  was  carried  away  with  his  success.  His 
elation  knew  no  bounds,  and  he  did  not  attempt  to 
conceal  his  satisfaction.  His  carnal  ambition  took 
possession  of  him  and  he  fancied  that  all  he  had  to 
do  was  to  stand  up  and  his  sermon  would  leap  spon- 
taneously to  his  lips.  His  old  pastor,  who  recounted 
to  me  the  incident,  had  found  it  difficult  before  to 
induce  the  young  man  to  exercise  his  gift  in  public, 
but  after  that  delicious  experience,  he  was  quite  ready 
to  try  it  again. 

The  following  night  he  was  to  address  a  more  in- 
telligent audience  in  the  neighborhood  of  Liberty, 
and  became  unduly  anxious  to  make  a  good  impres- 
sion. He  had  become  the  zealous  custodian  of  his 
sudden  fame,  and  was  ambitious  to  enhance  it  by  the 
sermon  on  that  occasion.  Alas,  for  the  inflated 
youth !  Satan  had  blinded  him  with  pride,  and  he 
went  forth  in  his  own  strength.  His  failure  was  a 
tragedy.  It  was  a  downfall  which  he  never  forgot. 
He  emerged  from  the  disaster,  crushed  in  spirit  and 
covered  with  shame.  It  taught  him  a  lesson  in  hu- 
mility, which  remained  with  him,  and  in  every  sub- 
sequent temptation  pointed  him  to  the  source  of  true 
strength. 


PUTTING  ON  THE  ARMOR.  95 

He  began  to  preach  in  January,  1822,  and  as  he 
was  appointed  a  missionary  in  the  summer  of  1823, 
I  infer  that  he  is  mistaken  in  saying  that  he  preached 
for  several  years  without  any  definite  plan.  He  was 
never  trustworthy  in  the  matter  of  dates,  and  I  think 
it  is  clear  that  his  evangelical  rambles  with  Daniel 
Witt  did  not  last  more  than  eighteen  months.  But 
it  was  a  brisk  and  busy  campaign.  They  traversed 
five  or  six  counties,  and  spoke  at  many  places.  They 
did  not  hold  prolonged  meetings,  but  pushed  steadily 
from  point  to  point,  and  preached  to  thousands  of 
people.  The  paper  which  follows  gives  an  account 
of  these  travels  and  labors. 

MY   EARLY   LABORS   IN   THE   MINISTRY. 

As  I  glided  into  the  ministry  without  design,  so  I  pursued  it 
for  several  years  without  any  definite  plan.  I  had  no  pastorate, 
no  prescribed  field  of  labor,  no  means  of  support,  no  earthly 
guide,  no  purpose  concerning  the  future,  but  to  do  good  as  I 
found  opportunity,  and  was  drifted  along  by  the  current  of 
events.  My  young  friend,  Daniel  Witt,  commenced  preaching 
in  a  few  weeks  after  I  did.  He  was  a  little  over,  and  I  was  a 
little  under,  twenty  years  old.  He  had,  however,  greatly  the 
advantage  of  me  in  appearance.  He  was  low,  slender,  beardless 
and  of  boyish  appearance;  I  was  tall,  slim,  gawky  and  seemingly 
older  than  I  really  was.  His  educational  advantages  had  been 
slightly  better  than  mine,  and  he  had  been  more  favored  in 
home  opportunities  for  acquiring  religious  knowledge  than  I  had 
been.  Possessing  a  fine  memory,  an  easy  elocution  and  a  plain- 
tive voice,  his  sermons  began  at  once  to  attract  attention.  I  can 
hardly  err  in  saying  that,  in  eighteen  months,  he  became  one  of 
the  most  popular  preachers  in  the  State.  He  was  not  the  most 
learned,  the  most  profound,  the  most  instructive  or  the  most 
impressive  preacher;  but,  in  view  of  his  youthfulness,  fluency 
and  pathos,  none  attracted  larger  audiences  or  were  heard  with 


96  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER.  D.D. 

deeper  interest.  He  was  unquestionably  a  more  popular  preacher 
than  I ;  though  I  may  be  excused  in  saying  that  there  were  per- 
sons who  judged  that,  in  originality  of  thought,  logical  acumen 
and  the  power,  under  favorable  circumstances,  of  moving  the  pas- 
sions of  an  audience,  I  was  his  equal,  and  in  this  opinion,  it  is 
proper  to  say,  he  always  concurred.  There  was  no  rivalry  be- 
tween us.  He  rejoiced  in  my  success  as  I  rejoiced  in  his.  We 
were  almost  constantly  together,  and  of  us  it  might  be  said  as 
pertinently  as  of  the  primitive  disciples,  that  we  "  had  all  things 
common."  We  had  a  common  stock  of  knowledge — quite  mea- 
gre— a  common  sermon,  which  we  diversified  with  different  texts 
and  with  fresh  arguments  and  illustrations  as  we  could  find 
them,  and  a  common  purse,  which  was  never  bloated  with  sup- 
plies. Dressed  in  homespun  clothes — the  common  apparel  of 
the  time — with  steeds  neither  fine  nor  pampered,  and  saddle-bags 
containing  our  entire  wardrobe,  we  commenced  our  humble 
labors. 

For  several  months  our  preaching  was  confined  to  our  native 
county,  and  chiefly  to  its  southwestern  border.  By  degrees,  and 
as  doors  of  usefulness  were  opened  to  us,  our  labors  were  extended 
into  the  counties  of  Franklin,  Pittsylvania,  Kenry,  Botetourt, 
Campbell  and  Amherst.  Everywhere  we  received  a  hearty  wel- 
come, were  met  by  large  congregations,  heard  with  deep  interest 
and  treated  with  great  hospitality  and  kindness.  Several  causes 
contributed  to  augment  our  audiences.  The  revival,  which  com- 
menced in  Bedford,  had  spread,  gradually  but  steadily,  into  the 
adjoining  counties.  In  many  neighborhoods  there  was  a  perva- 
ding interest  in  the  subject  of  religion.  There  was  a  general 
desire  to  hear  the  gospel  preached,  and  any  minister  of  any 
name  could  draw  a  good  congregation  on  any  day  of  the  week. 
The  juvenility  of  Witt  and  myself  added  greatly  to  the  attrac- 
tiveness of  our  ministry.  In  every  place  our  fame,  if  I  may  use 
so  grand  a  term  to  express  our  notoriety,  preceded  us,  and  lost 
nothing  in  its  progress.  It  was  represented  that  two  Bedford 
plow-boys  had  suddenly  entered  the  ministry,  and  were  turning 
the  world  upside  down.  At  that  time,  and  in  that  region,  young 
preachers  were  a  great  rarity,  and  excited  almost  as  much  inter- 
est as  a  dancing  bear,  and  an  interest  of  the  same  kind.     To  all 


PUTTING  ON  THE  ARMOR.  97 

these  consideration?  I  may  add,  as  the  result  of  my  matured 
judgment,  that  the  inexperienced  lads  preached  with  rather  re- 
markable freedom,  force  and  fervency.  Account  for  it  as  we 
may,  few  houses  would  hold  their  congregations,  even  on  week- 
days, and  they  were  compelled  to  deliver  their  message  in  groves 
and  under  arbors,  prepared,  in  some  cases,  for  the  purpose.  The 
night  meetings  were  usually  held  in  private  houses,  which,  in, 
most  cases,  could  not  contain  the  congregations.  As  a  remark- 
able specimen  of  these  meetings,  I  furnish  an  account  of  it  from 
my  Life  of  Dr.  Witt,  pp.  101-103: 

"  When  Witt  and  myself  first  went  into  Franklin  County  we 
had  an  appointment  to  preach  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Aquila  Divers. 
It  was  a  sparsely-settled  neighborhood ;  but  the  news  had  been 
widely  spread  that  two  boys  from  Bedford  would  preach.  The 
facts,  as  is  usual  in  such  cases,  had  been  greatly  exaggerated. 
An  intense  curiosity  to  see  and  hear  the  juvenile  strangers  had^ 
been  excited,  and  the  people  flocked  from  all  the  surrounding 
region  to  the  meeting  There  were  probably  five  hundred  per- 
sons in  attendance.  The  house  and  yard  were  filled  with  a> 
plain,  rustic,  wide-awake  night  congregation.  Witt  preached. 
He  felt  deeply  the  importance  and  responsibility  of  the  occasion, 
and  laid  off  his  coat  and  rolled  up  his  sleeves,  as  one  intent  on 
business.  This  may  seem  strange  to  one  accustomed  to  the  fas- 
tidiousness of  the  present  day ;  but  it  was  nothing  unusual  at 
that  time  and  in  that  region.  I  often  saw  ministers  of  piety, 
age,  dignity  and  reputation  preaching  in  hot  weather  in  their 
shirt-sleeves.  I  must  think  that  the  custom  is  more  rational  and 
defensible  than  many  of  the  fashions  and  ceremonies  which  ac- 
company the  preaching  of  the  word  in  the  present  period.  Witt 
removed  his  coat,  not  from  vanity  or  affectation,  but  for  comfort 
and  convenience.  Its  removal  meant  earnestness  and  labor. 
Nor  was  there  any  disappointment  in  the  case.  I  have  forgotten 
the  text  and  the  sermon ;  but  the  effect  of  the  service  I  well  re- 
member. When  the  discourse  was  ended  there  were  suppressed 
weeping  and  sobbing  throughout  the  audience,  in  the  house  and 
in  the  yard.  It  was  the  commencement  of  a  revival,  not  like 
some  modern  revivals  that  pass  away  as  the  morning  dew ;  but 
it  spread  far  and  wide,  continued  for  months,  and  brought  hun- 

7 


98  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

dreds  into  the  fold  of  Christ.  No  doubt  but  that,  to  this  day, 
traces  of  that  sermon  may  be  seen  in  the  county  of  Franklin." 

Our  mode  of  preaching,  as  was  common  at  that  time,  was  to 
have  a  series  of  appointments,  day  and  night,  from  place  to 
place,  rarely  spending  more  than  a  day  in  a  neighborhood.  We 
would  have  two  sermons  in  the  day  and  one  at  night,  ordinarily 
alternating  the  service.  The  one  who  preached  first  in  the  day 
had  usually  great  advantage  over  the  other.  If  he  had  freedom 
in  the  service,  he  reaped  our  whole  theological  field,  and  U  ft  but 
meagre  gleanings  for  the  other.  In  time,  however,  we  so  in- 
creased our  stock  of  theological  knowledge  that  the  preacher  of 
the  second  sermon  was  not  much  incommoded  by  the  wide  range 
of  remarks  in  the  first.  Had  the  present  method  of  conducting 
protracted  meetings  been  known  to  us,  our  usefulness,  I  judge, 
might  have  been  greatly  increased. 

Of  the  fruits  of  our  desultory  labors  it  is  impossible  to  make 
any  accurate  estimate.  Many  I  knew  professed  conversion  under 
our  ministry.  Large  additions  were  made  to  the  churches  by  the 
labors  of  their  pastors,  in  which  the  religious  awakening  seemed 
to  be  the  result  of  our  ministrations.  I  may  overestimate  these 
effects.  I  give  the  impressions  of  my  young,  ardent,  inexperi- 
enced mind,  which  the  sober  judgment  of  age  may  not  fully  cor- 
rect. Some  years  ago  I  visited  a  place  where,  in  my  boyhood, 
I  resided  and  played.  There  were  the  houses,  fields,  hills,  roads 
and  streams  which  I  remembered  after  long  years  of  absence,  but 
how  strangely  diminished  in  size !  A  similar  change  might  oc- 
cur in  the  seeming  importance  of  the  events  of  my  early  ministry, 
were  it  possible  for  me  to  return  to  them  with  the  judgment 
which  time,  observation  and  experience  have  given  me. 

I  must  close  this  bright  article  with  a  gloomy  tale.  Soon  after 
Witt  and  myself  labored  in  Franklin  and  the  adjoining  counties, 
the  strife  in  the  Baptist  denomination  concerning  missions  com- 
menced. The  ministers  in  that  region  generally  took  the  anti- 
mission  side.  Many  of  them  were  good  men,  of  narrow  views  and 
scanty  information.  They  were  apprehensive  that  missionary  ef- 
forts would  take  the  work  of  human  salvation  out  of  God's  hand 
and  transfer  all  its  glory  to  men,  not  considering  that  the  same 
objection,  and  with  equal  force,  or  rather  inconclusiveness,  might 


PUTTING  ON  THE  ARMOR.  99 

be  urged  against  all  means  employed  for  the  salvation  of  sinners. 
Most  of  the  churches  in  Franklin  and  Henry  Counties  withdrew 
from  the  Strawberry  Association,  and  organized  the  Pig  River 
Association,  a  body  most  earnestly  and  successfully  devoted  to 
doing  nothing.  When  Witt  and  myself  labored  in  that  region, 
Baptists  were  numerous,  w7ith  a  cheering  prospect  before  them ; 
but  under  the  withering  influence  of  anti-mission,  antinomian 
views,  their  progress  has  been  greatly  hindered,  if,  indeed,  their 
number  and  efficiency  have  not  been  decidedly  diminished. 

In  the  summer  of  1860,  Dr.  Jeter  and  myself  la- 
bored together  for  several  weeks  in  a  protracted 
meeting  in  Liberty,  Va.  Our  home  during  the  time 
was  at  Col.  Otey's,  and  Dr.  Witt  was  there  also  for 
several  days.  Thrown  together  once  more  in  their 
native  county,  after  many  years  of  absence,  they  in- 
dulged very  freely  in  reminiscences.  I  recall  one 
laughable  incident  which  Dr.  Jeter  related  of  their 
visit  to  Franklin  County,  of  which  he  speaks  in  the 
foregoing  paper.  It  seems  that  on  a  given  Sunday 
morning  he  preached  at  the  Court-House  and  Witt 
had  an  appointment  at  some  church  in  the  country. 
Jeter  announced  in  the  morning  that 'there  would  be 
another  service  at  night,  and  that  Brother  Witt  would 
preach.  Their  stock  of  sermons  was  very  meagre, 
and  such  sermons  as  they  had  were  common  property. 
In  the  morning  the  young  man  who  officiated  at  the 
Court-House  delivered  one  of  their  favorite  dis- 
courses, but,  for  some  reason,  neglected  to  tell  the 
other  which  of  the  sermons  he  had  used.  They  sat 
together  in  the  pulpit  until  the  time  for  the  sermon, 
and  then  Witt  arose  and  announced  his  text.  It 
fell  like  a  peal  of  thunder  upon  the  ear  of  young 
Jeter.     It  was  the  text  from  which  he  had  preached 


100  LIFE  OF  JEPwEMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

in  the  morning,  and  he  was  quite  horrified.  It  oc- 
curred to  him,  however,  that  he  ought  in  some  way 
to  indicate  the  fact,  and  give  his  brother  an  opportu- 
nity to  change  his  course.  Accordingly,  he  took  hold 
of  the  skirt  of  his  coat,  gave  it  a  gentle  jerk,  and  then 
instantly  dropped  his  head.  Witt  paused,  turned 
around  and  found  his  co-laborer,  apparently  in  a 
deeply  devotional  frame.  He  did  not  understand  the 
signal,  and  proceeded  with  his  sermon,  opening  with 
exactly  the  same  sentence  with  which  the  morning 
sermon  was  begun.  He  ran  smoothly  along  for  a 
minute  or  two,  until  the  situation  became  intolerable 
to  Jeter.  He  was  greatly  perplexed,  but  he  felt 
strongly  that  Witt  must  be  made  aware  of  his  mis- 
take, and  so  he  nervously  grasped  his  coat  again  and 
gave  it  a  sudden  and  vigorous  pull.  He  thought  that 
would  be  sufficient,  and  once  more  bowed  his  head 
and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

Witt  was  sorely  disconcerted.  He  came  to  a  sud- 
den halt  and  turned  about  for  an  explanation.  He 
found  his  disturber  with  his  head  meekly  bowed,  and 
apparently  wrapped  in  profound  meditation.  He 
was  puzzled  and  vexed,  and  strangely  enough,  never 
dreamed  of  the  cause  of  the  interruption.  He  was 
greatly  flurried,  and  it  was  quite  a  while  before  he 
became  sufficiently  collected  to  resume  his  discourse. 
By  degrees,  however,  he  worked  upon  the  old  track 
and  began  to  repeat  the  sermon  which  the  people  had 
heard  that  morning. 

Jeter  was  desperate ;  he  could  stand  it  no  longer. 
It  was  painful  to  interrupt  his  beloved  companion, 
but  he  felt  that  it  would  never  do  for  both  of  them 


PUTTING  ON  THE  ARMOR.  101 

to  preach  the  same  sermon  in  the  same  house  on  the 
same  day.  But  what  could  he  do  ?  He  dared  not 
speak,  and  indeed  no  course  was  open  to  him  except 
to  repeat  the  experiment  already  twice  tried.  Once 
more,  and  quite  violently,  he  jerked  Witt's  coat,  and 
this  time  with  such  force  that  he  brought  him  to  a 
sudden  pause.  The  young  speaker  was  completely 
unmanned,  and,  stung  with  chagrin  and  anger,  he 
took  his  seat. 

In  relating  the  story,  Dr.  Jeter  said  that  he  sup- 
posed, when  he  interrupted  him,  that  it  would  only  be 
necessary  to  tell  him  why  he  did  it,  in  order  to  satis- 
fy him.  To  his  surprise,  however,  he  found  the 
young  brother  quite  irritated,  and  slow  to  receive  his 
explanation. 

Dr.  Jeter  related  this  incident  with  fine  dramatic 
effect,  laughing  heartily  while  he  told  it,  and  closing 
with  the  remark  that  he  believed  it  was  the  only 
time  that  Dr.  Witt  ever  really  got  mad  with  him. 
During  its  recital  Witt  listened  in  silence,  with  a 
bland  smile  on  his  face,  and  when  it  was  ended,  he 
said,  "Yes,  I  was  mad,  and  I  don't  believe  that  I 
have  forgiven  you  for  it  yet." 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE  YOUNG  MISSIONARY. 

BE  it  said  to  the  praise  of  the  Gospel  that  friend- 
ships among  ministers  are  too  common  to  excite 
any  especial  attention.  It  is  not  strange  that 
men  of  common  faith,  educated  in  the  same  schools 
and  absorbed  in  the  same  work,  should  become  wed- 
ded in  the  strongest  ties  of  affection.  There  are  some 
who  are  always  ready  to  call  attention  to  the  jeal- 
ousies which  mar  the  relations  of  Christian  ministers. 
They  would  do  well  to  note  with  equal  care  the  warm 
attachments  and  mutual  intimacies  which  often  bind 
Christian  ministers  together.  Preachers  constitute 
an  exceedingly  congenial  and  affectionate  brother- 
hood. They  are  sometimes  criticised  for  the  jocose 
and  sportive  spirit  which  they  manifest  in  each 
other's  presence.  It  is  not  surprising  that  men  so 
trustful  and  sympathetic  should  unbend,  when,  mo- 
mentarily released  from  their  cares,  they  meet  for 
social  fellowship. 

The  friendship  between  J.  B.  Jeter  and  Daniel 
Witt  has  become  historic.  It  began  suddenly,  con- 
tinued without  interruption  for  a  half-century,  and 
deepened  in  ardor  and  strength  till  they  were  sun- 
dered by  death.  In  many  respects  they  were  un- 
like. Witt  was  slender  in  form,  delicate  in  health, 
102 


THE  YOUNG  MISSIONARY.  103 

of  a  singularly  nervous  temperament,  intensely  senti- 
mental, and  remarkably  soft  and  gentle  in  his  man- 
ners ;  Jeter  was  of  towering  height,  quite  slender 
in  form,  fearless  in  his  movements,  and  notoriously 
ambitious.  Witt  was  poetic,  rhetorical  and  graceful ; 
Jeter  was  unfortunate  in  voice,  logical  in  his  methods 
of  thought  and  unattractive  in  his  delivery.  Witt  had 
no  great  thirst  for  popularity,  and  yet  in  his  earlier 
days  was  surpassingly  popular;  Jeter  possessed  a 
craving  for  admiration  not  easy  to  restrain,  and  yet 
his  companion  far  outstripped  him  in  popular  favor. 

The  differences  between  them  offered  ample  oc- 
casion for  envy,  jealousy  and  strife;  and  yet  they 
were  fast  friends  from  the  first — a  fact  which  ad- 
mits of  easy  explanation.  They  were  natives  of 
the  same  county,  belonged  to  the  same  walks  of 
life,  entered  the  Christian  life  at  the  same  time,  re- 
spected each  other  thoroughly,  and  were  providen- 
tially associated  in  their  early  ministerial  labors. 
Like  kindred  drops  their  spirits  blended,  and  their 
intimacy  never  knew  the  shock  of  a  moment's  es- 
trangement. Their  friendship  never  dwindled  into 
unseemly  familiarity,  and  never  exhausted  itself  in 
needless  professions.  They  treated  each  other  with 
unfailing  courtesy,  and  were  too  generous  to  strain 
their  attachment  by  any  act  of  injustice.  Each  ad- 
mired the  other,  and  while  they  avoided  mutual  flat- 
teries, they  were  always  outspoken  in  their  praise  of 
each  other  when  in  the  presence  of  others.  Witt 
declared  that  their  friendship  had  not  been  exceeded 
in  permanence  or  purity  since  the  days  of  David  and 
Jonathan ;  Jeter  said  that  it  was  not  inferior  in  its 


104  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

strength  or  tenderness  to  that  of  Damon  and  Pythias. 
It  sometimes  happens  that  friendships  naturally  ex- 
pire. There  may  be  no  marked  alienations  and  no 
open  outbreaks,  but  men  grow  away  from  each  other. 
Their  habits,  employments  and  tastes  draw  them 
asunder;  and  without  falling  out,  they  cease  to 
love.  This  was  not  so  with  Jeter  and  Witt.  They 
grew  into  each  other  as  long  as  they  lived.  Their 
careers  were  widely  divergent,  but  their  friendship 
knew  no  abatement.  They  were  sundered  only  by 
the  stroke  of  death,  and  it  is  pleasant  to  believe 
that  even  that  dread  event  brought  only  a  brief 
separation. 

A  few  years  before  Witt's  death  Jeter  fell  seriously 
ill,  and  little  hope  was  entertained  of  his  recovery. 
The  news  of  his  sudden  sickness  speedily  spread,  and 
in  my  anxiety,  I  hastened  to  Richmond  to  ascertain 
the  facts  as  to  his  condition.  It  chanced  that  the 
beloved  Witt,  who  had  come  down  from  his  home  in 
Prince  Edward  County  to  see  him,  entered  the  house 
just  as  I  did.  We  were  conducted  to  the  parlor,  and 
sat  together,  anxiously  awaiting  the  news  from  the 
sick  chamber.  The  tidings  which  came  after  a  little 
delay  were  discouraging  enough.  The  patient  was 
worse,  and  it  seemed  that  nothing  could  be  done  for 
his  relief.  Witt  was  almost  heart-broken,  and  uttered 
a  lamentation  so  pathetic  that,  I  can  never  forget  it. 
He  said  :  "  Alas,  for  my  brother  and  my  friend  ! 
It  has  not  gone  as  well  with  me  as  I  had  hoped.  I 
always  told  him  that  he  must  attend  my  funeral, 
and  now  he  is  about  to  go  before  me." 

But  to  the  surprise  of  all  Dr.  Jeter  recovered,  and 


THE  YOUNG  MISSIONARY.  105 

not  long  after,  the  cherished  wish  of  Witt  that  Jeter 
might  attend  his  funeral  was  fulfilled. 

As  already  mentioned,  Witt  and  Jeter  preached 
through  the  mountain  counties  for  a  year  and  a  half 
after  their  conversion.  They  were  raw  recruits  in 
the  King's  service,  and  operated  upon  an  indepen- 
dent line.  They  drifted  from  point  to  point,  and 
put  in  their  work  wherever  there  seeemed  to  be  a 
prospect  of  usefulness.  But  this  free  and  roaming 
life  was  now  to  end,  and  they  were  soon  to  enter 
upon  more  formal  service. 

Up  to  that  time  the  Baptists  of  Virginia  had  no 
general  organization.  They  had  their  district  asso- 
ciations, which  had  been  organized  for  mutual  coun- 
sel and  help.  Some  time  before  they  had  instituted 
measures  for  promoting  friendly  intercourse  and  a 
better  understanding  among  the  district  meetings. 
But  the  missionary  spirit  had  already  entered  many 
of  the  churches.  There  was  a  clamor  for  organization, 
and  after  some  preliminary  steps,  a  convention  was 
called  to  consider  the  propriety  of  consolidating  the 
Baptist  forces  of  the  State.  That  meeting  was  held 
in  June,  1823,  in  the  city  of  Richmond.  Among 
those  who  attended  it  were  the  two  boy  preachers 
from  Bedford,  and  as  they  had  never  been  present  be- 
fore at  an  important  deliberative  body,  we  can  ima- 
gine with  what  high  and  throbbing  expectancy  they 
set  forth  upon  their  journey.  Of  that  meeting,  I 
will  here  present  Dr.  Jeter's  recollections.  It  seems 
remarkable  that  he  was  able  to  recall  so  few  incidents 
connected  with  the  proceedings  of  the  body. 


106  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

THE   ORGANIZATION   OF   THE   BAPTIST   GENERAL   ASSOCIATION 
OF   VIRGINIA. 

This  event  occurred  in  the  city  of  Richmond,  in  the  month  of 
June,  1823.  At  its  meeting  in  the  town  of  Lynchburg,  in  the 
previous  year,  the  Baptist  General  Meeting  of  Correspondence, 
organized  some  years  before,  merely  to  keep  up  a  friendly  inter- 
course among  the  Associations  of  the  State,  resolved  so  to  change 
its  constitution  as  to  become  a  domestic  missionary  society.  Ar- 
rangements were  made  to  consummate  this  plan  at  the  place  and 
the  time  named  above.  My  friend,  Daniel  Witt,  having  in  the 
preceding  winter  visited  Richmond,  and  preached  with  great 
acceptance,  received  a  cordial  invitation  to  attend  the  meeting 
for  the  proposed  organization.  Without  difficulty,  I  was  induced 
to  accompany  him.  In  due  time,  on  horseback,  equipped  in 
such  style  as  our  means  would  permit,  we  set  out  to  attend  the 
meeting.  We  were  accompanied  and  guided  by  Elder  Robert 
Tisdale,  a  minister  from  the  lower  part  of  the  State,  who  had 
spent  two  or  three  years  among  the  mountains  to  regain  his 
health.  He  was  well  acquainted  with  the  route  over  which  we 
were  to  pass,  and  with  the  arts  of  economical  traveling.  Of 
nights  we  stayed  at  private  houses,  and  were  hospitably  enter- 
tained— a  custom  then  quite  common  with  traveling  ministers, 
and  one  well  suited  to  our  financial  condition.  Nothing  of 
special  moment  occurred  on  our  journey ;  but  I  was  intensely 
interested  in  all  that  I  saw  and  heard.  I  had  never  before  been 
so  far  from  home,  and  to  me  everything  had  a  fresh  and  charm- 
ing appearance.  In  my  view,  the  James  River  was  of  magnificent 
size,  and  the  city  of  Richmond,  then  about  a  fourth  of  its  pres- 
ent dimensions,  seemed  to  me  to  be  of  surpassing  grandeur. 
The  capitol  exceeded  all  my  conceptions  of  architectural  great- 
ness and  beauty.  The  city  made  an  impression  on  my  youthful 
imagination  more  delightful  and  overpowering  than,  in  my  de- 
clining years,  was  made  by  the  vastness  of  London,  the  beauties 
of  Paris  or  the  wonders  of  Rome.  I  and  my  traveling  com- 
panions put  up  at  a  boarding-house  on  Governor  Street,  between 
Main  and  Franklin,  kept  by  an  excellent  brother,  who  treated 
us  very  kindly,  and  at  our  departure  charged  us  moderate  board, 
with  many  apologies  for  charging  us  at  all — apologies  justified, 
doubtless,  by  his  cramped  pecuniary  circumstances. 


THE  YOUNG  MISSIONARY.  107 

The  meeting  for  organizing  the  Association  was  held  in  the 
Second  Baptist  Church — a  building,  then  incomplete,  situated  on 
a  cross  street,  between  Main  and  Cary.  The  congregation,  at 
the  opening  of  the  services,  was  small.  The  introductory  sermon 
was  preached  by  Rev.  R.  B.  Semple,  from  Heb.  xiii.  16:  "But 
to  do  good,  and  to  communicate  forget  not ;  for  with  such  sacri- 
fices God  is  well  pleased."  I  had  heard  of  the  fame  of  Semple, 
but  was  greatly  disappointed  in  his  sermon.  It  was  not  the  kind 
of  preaching  that  I  had  been  taught  to  admire.  Its  want  of 
adaptation  to  my  taste  was  no  proof  that  it  lacked  merit.  It 
was,  I  have  no  question,  a  plain,  sensible,  practical  and  very  ap- 
propriate discourse.  Of  the  proceedings  of  the  meeting,  I  have 
no  distinct  recollection.  After  due  consideration  a  constitution 
was  adopted,  and  the  Baptist  General  Association  of  Virginia 
was  organized.  At  that  time  there  was  great  jealousy  in  the 
Associations,  and  among  Baptists  generally,  of  any  body  that 
was  supposed  to  be  able  to  encroach  on  the  liberties  and  preroga- 
tives of  the  churches.  The  fathers,  who  organized  the  General 
Association,  were  tremblingly  alive  to  this  jealousy,  and  in- 
tensely anxious  to  adopt  such  measures  as  should  disarm  all 
prejudices.  In  consequence,  they  placed  the  Association  under 
such  restrictions  that  it  could  do  little  good  or  evil.  Through 
long  years,  it  was  crippled  in  its  efforts  to  be  useful  by  needless 
constitutional  shackles,  which  had,  one  after  another,  to  be  cast 
off,  with  no  little  discussion,  and  not  always  in  a  lovely  spirit. 

Though  my  recollections  of  the  proceedings  of  the  meeting 
are  dim,  my  remembrance  of  many  of  the  preachers  and  their 
sermons  is  quite  vivid.  I  heard  them  preach  with  intense  in- 
terest, and  their  discourses  made  an  indelible  impression  on  my 
mind.  Luther  Rice  preached  at  night,  in  the  Second  Baptist 
Church,  from  Matt.  xvi.  17  :  "Blessed  art  thou,  Simon  Bar-jona  ; 
for  flesh  and  blood  hath  not  revealed  it  unto  thee,  but  my  Father 
which  is  in  heaven."  The  sermon  fell  far  below  my  expectation, 
and  equally  below  the  reputation  and  abilities  of  the  speaker. 
Rev.  Edward  Baptist  preached  in  the  Presbyterian  Church  in 
the  Valley,  known  as  the  "  Pine-apple  church,"  on  Lord's  day 
afternoon.  His  text  was  Hab.  iii.  2 :  "  O  Lord,  revive  thy 
work."     The  sermon  was  chaste  in  style,  beautiful  in  imagery, 


108  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

and  graceful  in  delivery,  but  was  hardly  equal  to  the  fame  of 
the  orator,  and  was  far  less  eloquent  and  impassioned  than  ser- 
mons which  I  afterwards  heard  from  his  lips.  Rev.  O.  B. 
Brown,  of  Washington,  preached  on  Sunday  morning  in  the 
First  Baptist  Church,  from  Hab.  ii.  14  :  "  For  the  earth  shall  be 
filled  with  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  as  the  waters 
cover  the  sea."  It  was  a  missionary  discourse,  delivered  to  a 
crowded  audience,  and  was  evidently  the  sermon  of  the  occasion. 
Rev.  Jas.  Fife  preached  on  Monday  afternoon,  at  the  close  of 
the  business  of  the  meeting,  in  the  First  Church,  to  a  pretty  full 
congregation,  from  Heb.  ii.  3 :  "  How  shall  we  escape,  if  we 
neglect  so  great  salvation  ? "  His  sermon  was  quite  pathetic, 
and  produced  a  deep  impression  on  his  hearers,  as  was  evinced  by 
their  tears.  Witt  preached,  but,  preferring  to  listen  to  some 
strange  minister,  I  did  not  hear  him.  His  sermon,  however,  was 
heard  with  great  pleasure,  and  its  praise  was  on  every  tongue. 
On  comparing  these  sermons,  I  would  say  that  of  Rice  was  the 
feeblest,  that  of  Baptist  the  most  beautiful,  that  of  Brown  the 
most  profound,  that  of  Fife  the  most  impressive,  and  that  of 
Witt  the  most  popular.  I  preached  on  a  week-day  night  at  the 
Second  Baptist  Church.  The  congregation  was  good,  and  Semple, 
Brown  and  others,  distinguished  for  their  knowledge  and  vener- 
ableness,  concealed  themselves  in  a  remote  part  of  the  church 
that  I  might  not  be  intimidated  by  their  presence.  My  text  was 
Psalm  xxvii.  1  :  "  The  Lord  is  my  light  and  my  salvation ; 
whom  shall  I  fear?"  Semple,  who  afterwards  heard  me  preach 
frequently,  always  said  this  was  as  good  a  sermon  as  he  ever 
heard  me  deliver.  It  was  well  for  me ;  for  it  was  more  than 
seven  years  before  I  preached  in  Richmond  again  without  em- 
barrassment and  mortification. 

At  this  time  I  first  saw  several  ministers,  whom  I  did  not  hear 
preach,  but  whom  I  afterwards  knew  well  and  prized.  Among 
these  I  may  mention  the  venerable  Philip  Montague  (Blacky,  as 
he  was  called,  to  distinguish  him  from  a  cousin  of  the  same 
name),  William  Todd,  the  clerk  of  the  Association,  Eli  Ball, 
then  just  arrived  from  Massachusetts,  and  subsequently  the 
General  Agent  of  the  body,  Addison  Lewis,  a  scholarly  man, 
whom,  after  the  lapse  of  more  than  twenty  years,  I  met  in  Mis- 


THE  YOUNG  MISSIONARY.  109 

souri,  and  John  Bryce,  who  had  been  long  an  associate  pastor  of 
the  First  Church,  was  then  residing  in  Fredericksburg,  and,  after 
many  years,  ended  his  days  in  Kentucky. 

On  this  visit  I  became  acquainted  with  Rev.  John  Courtney, 
an  aged  and  revered  pastor  of  the  First  Baptist  Church.  He 
was  quite  superannuated  ;  and  did  not  attend  any  of  the  meet- 
ings of  the  Association.  He  was  a  tall,  raw-boned  man,  bowed 
beneath  the  infirmities  of  age,  and  occupying  a  plain  framed 
house,  now  standing  in  the  rear  of  the  Roman  Catholic  cathedral. 
He  was  held  in  high  esteem  within  and  without  the  church,  not 
for  his  learning  or  his  eloquence,  but  for  his  good  sense,  incor- 
ruptible integrity,  earnest  piety  and  faithful  and  useful  labors. 
Rev.  Henry  Keeling  was  nominally  his  assistant,  but  really  the 
sole  pastor  of  the  Church.  Rev.  David  Roper,  a  very  intelligent, 
but  not  popular  preacher,  in  rapidly  declining  health,  filled  the 
pulpit  of  the  Second  Church,  but  was  not  its  pastor. 

It  is  to  me  an  affecting  thought,  that  of  all  the  men,  ministers 
and  laymen,  engaged  in  the  formation  of  the  Baptist  General 
Association  of  Virginia,  I  only  am  in  the  land  of  the  living. 
Elder  Jas.  Fife,  one  of  the  fathers  of  the  body,  after  a  long  life 
of  useful  labors,  was  the  last  to  depart.  These  good  brethren 
built  more  wisely  than  they  knew.  They  laid  the  foundations 
of  an  edifice  of  whose  noble  proportions  and  grandeur  they 
formed  no  just  conception.  How  would  their  hearts  have  swelled 
with  gratitude,  and  their  tongues  broke  forth  in  strains  of  praise, 
could  they  have  foreseen  the  thousands  of  souls  that  would  be 
converted,  the  hundreds  of  churches  that  would  be  founded,  and 
the  mighty  missionary  and  educational  influences  that  would  be 
exerted,  by  the  feeble  agencies  they  were  putting  in  operation. 
If  it  is  permitted  to  them  in  heaven  to  know  the  results  of  their 
earthly  labors,  their  felicity  is,  doubtless,  augmented  by  their 
view  of  the  rich  harvests  that  have  been  reaped,  and  are  yet  to 
be  reaped,  from  the  handful  of  seed  cast  by  them  in  a  seemingly 
unfruitful  soil. 

Dr.  Jeter  possessed  great  facility  in  recalling  facts, 
but  where  dates  were  involved  his  memory  was  not 
to   be    trusted.     If  dependent  upon  his  statements 


HO  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

alone,  we  would  be  compelled  to  infer  that  at  the 
close  of  the  meeting  in  Richmond  he  went  directly 
to  Sussex  County,  and  established  himself  in  the 
home  of  Rev.  Nathaniel  Chambliss.  The  fact  seems 
to  be  that  he  and  Witt  did  at  that  time  visit  Sussex, 
and  probably  remained  there  until  midsummer,  when 
they  went  to  King  and  Queen  County  to  confer  with 
the  Board,  and  to  complete  their  arrangements  for 
their  missionary  tour.  They  were  appointed  with 
instructions  to  traverse  Western  Virginia,  and  to  as- 
certain the  religious  condition  of  that  portion  of  the 
State.  It  is  easy  enough  from  our  standpoint  to  crit- 
icise the  action  of  the  Board  in  selecting  these  two 
ministerial  neophytes  for  a  mission  so  arduous  and 
responsible.  Perhaps  it  was  not  wise.  Their  cam- 
paign was  not  expected  to  bear  much  fruit.  They 
moved  with  great  rapidity  and  made  only  the  brief- 
est pauses  at  the  prominent  points  along  the  way. 
It  was  indeed  simply  a  tour  of  inspection.  The  young 
missionaries  were  hardy,  courageous  and  zealous. 
While  inexperienced  and  ignorant  of  the  country, 
they  were  watchful  and  capable  of  forming  an  intelli- 
gent opinion  on  the  matters  which  they  were  sent 
out  to  investigate.  They  possessed  the  additional 
recommendation  of  being  used  to  rough  experiences, 
and  unused  to  expensive  methods  of  living.  They 
were  cheap  laborers.  If  their  appointment  proved 
nothing  else,  it  at  least  evinced  a  purpose  on  the 
part  of  the  Baptists  of  those  times  to  preach  the  gos- 
pel in  every  portion  of  Virginia.  The  sending  forth 
of  those  young  men  was  a  significant  event ;  it  meant 
a  new  and  aggressive  movement.     Their  appoint- 


THE  YOUNG  MISSIONARY.  m 

merit  marked  the  birthday  of  State  Missions.  Witt 
and  Jeter  went  out  as  pioneers,  and  constituted  the 
vanguard  of  that  imperial  host  of  Baptist  mission- 
aries, who,  from  that  day  to  this,  have  been  pushing 
their  triumphs  into  every  portion  of  Virginia. 

Witt  and  Jeter  returned  from  their  expedition, 
bringing  with  them  startling  accounts  of  spiritual 
destitution,  and  urging  a  vigorous  and  onward  move- 
ment on  the  part  of  the  denomination.  Their  mod- 
est counsel  found  a  warm  response  among  their  breth- 
ren, and  the  cry  rang  along  the  Baptist  lines  :  "  Let 
us  go  up  at  once  and  possess  it ;  for  we  are  able  to 
overcome  it." 

With  steady  and  hopeful  faith,  the  Baptists  of 
Virginia  have  been  laboring  for  more  than  sixty 
years  to  establish  their  principles  in  every  quarter 
of  the  State.  How  marvellous  have  been  their  suc- 
cesses, and  how  wonderfully  they  have  multiplied ! 
For  how  much  of  this  progress  they  are  indebted  to 
these  two  young  men,  is  a  question  which  I  must 
not  undertake  to  settle. 

I  present  here  Dr.  Jeter's  description  of  that 
memorable  missionary  tour : 

A   MISSIONARY   TOUR. 

At  the  time  of  the  formation  of  the  General  Association  of 
Virginia,  it  was  arranged  that  Daniel  Witt  and  myself  should, 
in  the  month  of  August,  appear  before  its  Executive  Board,  of 
which  Dr.  Semple  was  the  president,  in  the  county  of  King  and 
Queen,  then  a  centre  of  Baptist  influence.  The  object  of  the 
interview  was  that  we  might  be  appointed  to  explore  the  western 
part  of  the  State  as  a  missionary  field.  At  that  time  the  Bap- 
tists of  Virginia  knew  little  of  one  another.  Then  there  were 
no  railroads,  telegraphs  or  religious  newspapers.     Traveling  was 


112  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

performed  almost  entirely  by  private  conveyances.  Intercom- 
munication between  different  portions  of  the  State  for  political 
and  commercial  purposes  was  infrequent,  and  for  religious  ob- 
jects almost  unknown.  The  Board,  before  entering  on  its  work 
for  evangelizing  the  State,  very  naturally  desired  to  know  some- 
thing of  its  religious  condition. 

According  to  appointment,  we  presented  our.-elves  before  the 
Board,  and  were  duly  appointed  missionaries,  to  explore  its  field 
of  labor  and  report  its  spiritual  condition.  At  that  time  there 
was  quite  a  romance  thrown  around  the  missionary  work.  There 
seemed  to  be  something  peculiarly  sacred  and  inspiring  in  it. 
We  deemed  ourselves  highly  honored  in  the  unsought  and  unex- 
pected honor  conferred  on  us.  We  accepted  the  appointment, 
and  received  our  instructions,  carefully  written  out  in  the  beau- 
tiful chirography  of  Eev.  Andrew  Broaddus.  After  preaching 
several  times  in  the  county,  as  we  had  afterwards  reason  to  be- 
lieve with  some  profit  to  our  hearers,  we  returned  to  Bedford  to 
prepare  for  our  western  tour,  with  no  slight  sense  of  responsibil- 
ity upon  us.  With  minds  immature,  and  with  little  knowledge 
and  experience,  we  were  very  imperfectly  fitted  for  our  mission  ; 
but,  perhaps,  under  all  the  circumstances,  the  Board  could  not 
then  do  better. 

On  some  day  in  October,  1823,  two  young  men,  one  beardless 
and  the  other  nearly  so,  might  have  been  seen  journeying  toward 
the  setting  sun.  They  were  rudely,  but  after  the  common  style, 
<  quipped  for  their  tour,  mounted  on  steeds,  strong  but  not  gay, 
with  well-stuffed  saddle-bags  and  overcoats  and  umbrellas 
strapped  behind  them.  It  was  to  them  a  movement  of  no  little 
interest  and  consequence.  Their  first  point  of  destination  was  the 
New  River  Baptist  Association,  to  be  held,  if  my  memory  is  not 
in  fault,  at  Reed  Island  meeting-house,  in  Grayson  County. 
Their  route,  with  which,  in  part,  they  had  some  acquaintance, 
was  through  the  counties  of  Franklin  and  Patrick.  In  due  time 
they  reached  their  destination. 

The  Association  was  a  small  body.  Its  ministers  were  plain 
and  illiterate,  of  narrow  views  and  strong  prejudices.  The  anti- 
mission  spirit  was  then  just  beginning  to  develop  itself,  and 
muster  its  forces  for  the  conflict  which  soon  followed.     Witt  and 


THE  YOUNG  MISSIONARY.  113 

myself  were  looked  upon  with  suspicion,  as  spies  sent  to  search  out 
the  resources  of  the  country.  Another  thing  rendered  us  unpopular. 
Here  we  met  Rev.  Robert  Tisdale,  who  had  recently  left  the 
eastern  part  of  the  State  to  live  and  labor  in  the  western.  He 
resided  in  Monroe  County  ;  but  in  some  of  his  journeys,  within 
the  bounds  of  the  New  River  Association,  he  heard  rumors  of 
the  disorderly  conduct  of  a  church  member — desecration  of  the 
Lord's  Day,  I  think  it  was — and  preferred  a  charge  against  the 
supposed  offender  in  his  own  church.  The  trial  of  the  accused 
stirred  up  strife.  Retaliatory  charges  were  brought  against  Tis- 
dale, and,  though  they  were  of  a  trivial  nature,  they  rendered 
him  extremely  unpopular.  Our  previous  acquaintance  with 
him  led  us,  perhaps  indiscreetly,  to  espouse  his  cause ;  and  being 
identified  with  him,  in  the  minds  of  the  brethren,  we  shared  in 
his  reproach.  At  Reed  Island  we  did  but  little  to  promote  the 
object  of  our  mission ;  when,  doubtless,  if  we  had  been  wise,  we 
might  have  done  much. 

From  this  point  we  made  a  hasty  circuit  through  the  counties 
of  Wythe,  Giles,  Monroe,  Greenbrier,  Pocahontas,  Bath,  Alle- 
ghany and  Botetourt.  We  were  accompanied  on  our  route  by 
Brother  Tisdale  as  far  as  to  Pocahontas  County.  He  was  of 
great  service  to  us,  as  he  was  acquainted  with  the  country,  aud 
secured  for  us  an  introduction  into  many  families,  and  many 
facilities  for  acquiring  information,  which  otherwise  we  could 
not  have  enjoyed.  We  found,  in  most  places,  great  destitution 
of  religious  instruction.  Methodist  circuit-riders  had  penetrated 
almost  every  neighborhood  ;  but  their  labors  were  desultory,  and 
many  of  them  were  very  imperfectly  fitted  for  their  performance. 
There  were  Presbyterians  in  Lewisburg,  and  at  a  few  other 
points ;  but  we  neither  saw  nor  heard  of  Episcopalians.  Baptist 
Churches  were  few,  feeble  and  widely  scattered,  supplied  with 
occasional  preaching  by  illiterate  pastors,  with  whom,  for  the 
most  part,  the  ministry  was  a  secondary  matter.  Almost  every- 
where we  met  with  isolated  Baptists,  and  persons  entertaining 
Baptist  views.  Our  reception  was  generally  very  cordial.  The 
plain  people  welcomed  us,  we  being  as  plain  as  they,  to  their 
coarse,  but  abundant  fare,  and  opened  their  houses  freely  for  us 
to  preach  the  gospel.     There  was  no  lack  of  mission  fields.     In 


114  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B,  JETER,  D.D. 

almost  every  neighborhood  we  were  invited  to  establish  mission 
stations,  and  send  ministers  to  occupy  them.  Court-houses, 
school-houses  and  private  houses  were  offered  for  our  occasional 
or  constant  use  We  preached  as  often  as  our  opportunities  per- 
mitted ;  but  as  we  were  traveling,  and  had  no  means  of  sending 
appointments  ahead  of  us,  our  congregations,  gathered  on  short 
notices  of  limited  circulation,  were  generally  small. 

The  trip,  though  intensely  interesting  to  us,  with  our  very 
limited  knowledge  of  the  world,  was  not  distinguished  by  any 
stirring  incidents.  A  few  events  may  not  be  unworthy  of  brief 
notice. 

I  preached  at  a  private  house  in  the  Little  Levels  of  Green- 
brier— think  that  was  the  name  of  the  valley.  At  that  time  re- 
ligious controversy  was  common,  and  frequently  conducted  with 
great  folly  and  fierceness.  Almost  every  preacher  was  a  polemic, 
and  every  polemic  was  ready  on  all  occasions  to  do  battle  for  his 
tenets.  One  of  the  subjects  of  controversy  between  Calvinists 
and  Arminians  was  the  doctrine  of  sinless  perfection.  Arminians 
affirmed,  and  Calvinists  denied  it ;  and  each  party  was  equally 
eager  to  defend  its  opinion.  In  my  sermon  I  took  occasion  to 
attack  the  doctrine  of  sinless  perfection.  A  Methodist  class- 
leader  present  was  resolved  that  no  such  heterodox  notion  should 
be  proclaimed  in  the  Little  Levels  of  Greenbrier ;  and  by  means 
of  shuffling  his  feet,  stamping  and  contradicting,  he  well-nigh, 
on  this  occasion,  accomplished  his  purpose.  I  became  embar- 
rassed, and  brought  my  remarks  to  a  speedy,  but  by  no  means 
triumphant,  conclusion.  I  was  glad  to  learn,  however,  that  the 
course  of  the  class-leader  was  generally  condemned  in  the  com- 
munity, even  by  his  brethren. 

I  had  the  privilege  of  being  present  at  the  first  regimental 
militia  muster  in  the  newly-formed  county  of  Pocahontas.  The 
hunting  of  bears  and  wolves  called  for  different  tactics  from  those 
taught  in  modern  warfare.  The  muster  was  a  farce.  The  regi- 
mental column,  according  to  the  description  of  a  militia  parade 
which  I  read  in  a  comic  almanac,  "  was  zigzag  at  both  ends, 
and  crooked  in  the  middle."  The  perplexed  colonel,  not  know- 
ing by  what  evolution  to  extricate  it  from  its  confusion,  rode  in 
front  of  the  tangled  line,  and,  with  his  drawn  sword  pointing  out 


THE  YOUNG  MISSIONARY.  H5 

the  ground,  cried,  in  a  stentorian  voice,  somewhat  mellowed  by- 
despair  :  "  Come  along  here."  The  muster  was  of  no  religious 
importance,  except  that  it  afforded  an  opportunity  for  publishing 
an  appointment  for  preaching  in  the  neighborhood  the  next  day. 

I  was  at  Huntersville,  which  figured  so  largely  in  the  late 
war,  when  there  were  no  buildings  there  except  the  log  cabins  of 
Mr.  Bradshaw.  It  had  recently  been  selected  as  the  metropolis 
of  the  county  of  Pocahontas  ;  and  Mr.  Bradshaw,  the  owner  of 
the  land,  seemed  as  proud  of  the  distinction  as  if  he  had  been 
elected  Lord-Mayor  of  London.  He  named  the  place  Hunters- 
ville, in  honor  of  the  distinguished  class  of  persons  in  that  re- 
gion of  bears  and  deer,  of  wolves  and  foxes,  of  which  Mr.  Brad- 
shaw Avas  himself  a  prominent  member.  At  the  time  of  my  visit 
his  cabins  served  all  the  purposes  of  court-house,  clerk's  office 
and  hotel,  and  prison,  too,  if  any  prison  was  used.  I  am  sorry 
that  I  did  not  preserve  a  copy  of  a  notice  to  his  customers,  which 
Mr.  Bradshaw  had  posted  in  a  conspicuous  place  on  his  prem- 
ises. He  had  credited  them,  and  fearing  that  they  might  repu- 
diate their  debts,  he  generously  proposed  an  adjustment  of  his 
claims  by  receiving,  at  a  fair  valuation,  whatever  commodities 
his  mountain  friends  might  have  to  spare.  In  conception,  lan- 
guage, orthography  and  punctuation,  it  was  fairly  entitled  to  a 
place  among  Disraeli's  Curiosities  of  Literature. 

About  the  close  of  November  we  reached  our  homes,  thankful 
for  the  mercies  which  had  accompanied  us  through  our  journey. 
After  some  delay,  we  appeared  in  King  and  Queen  County  to 
report  to  the  Board  the  results  of  our  mission.  Both  Witt  and 
myself  had  kept  diaries  of  our  tour.  His,  as  he  was  the  senior 
missionary,  was  read  before  the  Board.  In  answer  to  questions 
proposed  by  our  employers,  we  gave  them  all  the  information 
that  we  had  gathered  concerning  the  religious  condition  of  the 
people,  and  the  openings  for  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  in  the 
regions  through  which  we  had  passed.  Guided  by  this  imperfect 
report,  the  Board  selected  the  early  fields  of  its  operations,  and 
commenced  its  evangelical  labors  in  the  State,  which,  through  a 
period  of  more  than  half  a  century,  have  been  prosecuted  with  a 
good  degree  of  earnestness,  diligence  and  success. 

I  may  mention  an  incident  in  conclusion.     We  stated  before 


116  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

the  Board  that  some  man,  whom  we  saw  in  our  travel,  said  of 
Brother  Tisdale  :  "  He  is  too  learned  a  man  to  be  a  preacher  ; 
he  ought  to  be  a  lawyer."  He  was  a  sensible  man,  with  very 
little  education,  and  no  large  stock  of  knowledge.  When  the 
statement  was  made,  Andrew  Broaddus,  with  a  twinkle  in  his 
eye,  and  with  his  inimitable  grace,  looking  at  Semple,  said  : 
"  Brother  Semple,  if  you  and  I  had  to  try  Brother  Tisdale  on 
that  charge,  we  should  acquit  him." 

I  must  be  candid  enough  to  say  that  Dr.  Jeter's 
account  above  given  of  his  and  Witt's  missionary 
excursion  is  not  so  full  or  satisfactory  as  that  fur- 
nished by  his  co-laborer.  Dr.  Witt  tells  us  that  their 
track  lay  through  the  counties  of  Franklin,  Henrj^, 
Patrick,  Montgomery,  Grayson,  Giles,  Wythe,  Mon- 
roe, Greenbrier,  Pocahontas,  Alleghany,  Bath,  Rock- 
bridge and  Botetourt.  He  adds  that  they  discovered 
great  spiritual  destitution,  and  that  they  were  greeted 
with  a  hearty  welcome  wherever  they  went.  They 
found  only  a  few  feeble  Baptist  churches,  and  in  some 
counties  they  did  not  meet  a  Baptist  minister  or  even 
a  member  of  a  Baptist  church. 

How  long  their  expedition  lasted,  they  have  failed 
to  tell  us.  After  their  return  to  Bedford  they  started 
out  upon  an  even  more  extensive  exploration  through 
the  southern  and  eastern  portion  of  the  State.  They 
journeyed  on  horseback  through  many  of  the  coun- 
ties lying  between  Bedford  and  Isle  of  Wight,  and 
then  crossing  James  River,  they  made  their  way 
through  James  City,  York,  Gloucester,  Matthews  and 
Middlesex,  and  finally  returned  to  King  and  Queen 
to  make  their  report  to  the  Board. 

To  that  meeting  these  young  ministers  submitted 


THE  YOUNG  MISSIONARY.  117 

a  question  of  vast  importance  to  themselves,  agree- 
ing to  abide  by  the  decision  of  their  brethren.  In 
Robert  Semple  and  Andrew  Broaddus,  the  ruling 
spirits  of  the  Board,  and  then  the  two  foremost  Bap- 
tist preachers  in  the  State,  they  found  ready  and 
conscientious  counsellors,  but  whether  they  received 
from  them  the  wisest  counsel  on  the  point  at  issue 
is  a  question  on  which  there  might  be  an  honest  dif- 
ference of  opinion. 

From  the  beginning,  Witt  and  Jeter  had  felt  pro- 
foundly their  lack  of  qualification  for  the  ministerial 
office.  Their  later  experiences  and  their  contact 
with  cultivated  men  had  served  to  render  their 
desire  for  an  education  more  intense.  Now  there 
was  opened  to  them  an  opportunity  to  secure  better 
mental  culture  and  more  careful  theological  training. 
Luther  Rice  was  then  in  Virginia,  and  he  had  be- 
come deeply  interested  in  these  two  mountain  boys. 
He  was  anxious  for  them  to  step  aside  from  active 
service  and  seek  more  effective  training  for  their 
future  work.  He  proposed  to  secure  for  them  the 
advantages  of  a  collegiate  education.  It  was  a  tempt- 
ing proposition,  and  fell  in  with  the  current  of  their 
strongest  desires.  It  seemed  to  be  providential,  and 
yet,  unwilling  to  settle  the  question  for  themselves, 
these  modest  young  brethren  referred  it  to  Semple 
and  Broaddus.  After  due  consideration,  the  old 
brethren  gave  their  voice  against  a  collegiate  course 
of  study.  This  they  did,  not  through  any  prejudices 
against  higher  education,  but  on  the  ground  that 
the  call  for  ministers  was  peculiarly  urgent  at  that 
time,  and  that  these  two  young  men  could  not  afford 


118  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

to  immure  themselves  in  a  college  for  four  or  five 
years. 

This  fact  is  taken  from  Dr.  Witt's  autobiography. 
He  tells  us,  with  a  rare  delicacy  of  humor,  that  these 
grave  counsellors  presented  a  special  reason  against  his 
going  to  college.  It  seems  that  his  health  was  then 
supposed  to  be  very  feeble,  and  it  was  believed  that 
he  could  not  live  to  be  thirty  years  old.  This  opin- 
ion was  brought  into  the  council,  and  treated  as  a 
foregone  conclusion.  They  assumed  it  as  fixed  that  he 
was  to  die  in  six  or  eight  years,  and  the  only  ques- 
tion was  as  to  the  best  use  that  he  could  make  of  the 
little  fragment  of  time  that  remained  to  him.  They 
thought  it  quite  absurd  that  a  young  man  already 
on  the  verge  of  the  grave  should  be  harboring  the 
notion  of  going  to  college ;  but  he  did  not  die  on 
schedule  time.  He  was  over  sixty  years  of  age  when 
he  made  the  record  of  these  facts.  "  It  seems,"  he 
says  in  speaking  of  the  matter,  "  as  great  a  wonder 
to  me  now,  as  it  would  have  been  to  Semple  then, 
that  a  harp  of  a  thousand  strings  could  keep  in  tune 
so  long." 

The  counsel  of  the  elders  prevailed,  and  the  col- 
lege course  was  abandoned.  It  was  determined,  how- 
ever, that  the  young  brethren  should  give  themselves 
to  study.  This  decision  led  to  a  sudden  break  in 
their  hitherto  united  and  happy  lives,  and  from  that 
time  forth  they  pursued  divergent  paths.  It  was 
decided  that  Witt  should  be  placed  under  the  tuition 
of  Brother  Semple  for  a  season,  but  it  is  probable 
that  he  spent  only  two  or  three  months  there,  after 
which  he  was  sent  on  another  missionary  tour  to  the 


THE  YOUNG  MISSIONARY.  119 

Valley  of  Virginia.  At  the  close  of  that  engagement 
he  went  to  Charlotte  County,  and  pursued  a  course  of 
study  under  the  direction  of  Abner  W.  Clopton.  In 
a  few  years  he  settled  in  the  county  of  Prince 
Edward,  and  spent  the  remainder  of  his  life  in  a  quiet 
country  pastorate.  He  was  a  man  of  spotless  purity 
and  ineffable  gentleness  of  character.  Dr.  A.  M.  Poin- 
dexter  said  of  him,  that  he  possessed  in  high  meas- 
ure, "  converting  power"  and  Dr.  Jeter  said  of  him, 
"  Few  pastors  were  the  direct  means  of  the  salvation 
of  so  many  persons  as  he  was." 

From  King  and  Queen,  Jeter,  after  a  sad  parting 
with  the  companion  of  his  former  labors  and  travels, 
returned  to  Sussex  County. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

HIS  LIFE  IN  SUSSEX  AND  CAMPBELL. 

IT  was  an  odd  whirl  of  events  which  carried  young 
Jeter  into  the  county  of  Sussex.  It  really 
seemed  that  he  had  no  business  there.  He  was 
an  entire  stranger  to  the  people  and  the  place,  and 
they  knew  nothing  of  him.  He  went  without  being 
sent  for,  and  had  no  thought  of  making  it  the  place 
of  his  abode.  His  traveling  companion,  Daniel  Witt, 
was  invited  to  visit  Rev.  Nathaniel  Chambliss,  and 
Jeter  went  along  for  the  lack  of  something  else  to  do. 
But  such  is  the  lot  which  falls  to  all  of  us.  An  in- 
visible hand  guides  our  steps.  Call  it  what  we  will, 
there  is  a  subtle  force  which  dominates  our  life,  and 
determines  our  course.  It  is  stronger  than  our 
caprices  and  mightier  than  our  purposes.  It  shifts 
us  from  our  chosen  track  and  thrusts  us  into  situa- 
tions of  which  in  advance  we  could  never  have 
dreamed.  It  was,  by  a  way  which  he  knew  not,  that 
this  roaming  youth  was  conducted  to  Sussex. 

It  is  the  improbable  that  usually  happens.  It 
seemed  likely  enough  that  young  Witt,  so  winsome 
and  lovely,  and  whose  fame  had  gone  before  him, 
would  meet  such  a  reception  at  the  hands  of  the  Sus- 
sex brethren,  as  would  constrain  him  to  abide  with 
them.  As  a  fact,  he  paid  his  promised  visit,  and  then 
120 


HIS  LIFE  IN  SUSSEX  AND  CAMPBELL.  121 

took  his  speedy  and  final  leave.  But  Jeter,  who  en- 
tered the  county  somewhat  as  an  intruder,  won  the 
heart  of  the  venerable  Chambliss,  and  became  an 
inmate  of  his  home. 

It  is  not  easy  nor  important  to  estimate  the  length 
of  time  which  he  spent  in  Sussex.  He  went  there 
first  in  June,  1823,  and  probably  remained  until  Au- 
gust, when  he  proceeded  to  King  and  Queen  County 
to  confer  with  the  Board  with  reference  to  his 
entrance  into  its  service  as  missionary.  It  is  not 
certain,  but  quite  probable,  that  he  returned  imme- 
diately to  Sussex  and  remained  there  until  he  and 
Witt  went  forth  upon  their  missionary  tour  in  Octo- 
ber. Their  journey  through  Western  Virginia  was 
made  during  the  autumn  of  1823,  and  that  through 
Southern  and  Eastern  Virginia  was,  I  judge,  made 
during  the  winter  of  1824.  This  gave  him  an  oppor- 
tunity of  reaching  Sussex  in  the  spring, — in  ample 
time  for  his  ordination,  which  occurred  in  May  of 
that  year. 

Of  his  life  in  Sussex  we  know  very  little — next  to 
nothing,  except  what  he  has  told  us.  There  were, 
however,  some  facts  connected  with  that  portion  of 
his  career  which  exerted  an  important  influence  in 
fixing  his  character,  and  which  must  have  a  brief 
mention  here. 

Though  he  entered  that  county  as  an  uninvited 
stranger,  he  quickly  secured  the  gracious  kindness 
of  old  Elder  Chambliss.  It  must  have  been  a  case  of 
love  on  first  sight.  That  venerated  and  saintly  man 
of  God  saw  something  in  this  lank  and  blundering 
mountaineer  to  excite  his    respect  and  sympathy. 


122  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

He  felt  for  him  in  his  poverty,  and  in  his  manifest 
lack  of  preparation  for  his  calling.  Beneath  his  rus- 
tic garb  and  awkward  manner  he  saw  the  stuff  for 
building  a  noble  manhood.  He  was  a  stranger,  and 
he  took  him  in.  So  far  as  I  am  aware,  he  was  the 
only  man,  excepting  Luther  Rice,  who  evinced  a 
practical  solicitude  for  young  Jeter's  education.  He 
opened  to  him  the  gates  of  hospitality,  invested  him 
with  the  privileges  of  a  son,  gave  him  free  use  of  his 
books,  honored  him  with  his  confidence  and  com- 
panionship, and  furnished  him  money  to  improve  his 
wardrobe.  I  do  not  know  much  of  Elder  Chambliss' 
private  character,  but  this  incident  is  sufficient  to 
mark  him  as  a  man  of  worth.  It  shows  his  discrim- 
ination, his  kindness  of  soul  and  his  care  for  the 
Christian  ministry.  There  are  many  interesting  les- 
sons suggested  by  the  Scripture  story  of  the  young 
man  in  Elisha's  college  who  lost  the  borrowed  axe. 
To  me  the  most  touching  feature  of  the  incident  is 
one  that  is  not  even  mentioned — that  is,  the  kind- 
ness of  the  man  who  loaned  the  axe.  It  was  a  deed 
of  helpfulness  wrought  for  a  poor  young  preacher. 
Of  that  same  kindly  and  unselfish  sort  was  the  un- 
sought favor  exhibited  by  Elder  Chambliss  for  Jeter. 
It  is  charming  to  picture  the  grateful  young 
brother,  cosily  ensconced  in  the  Chambliss  mansion. 
He  had  not  had  things  after  that  fashion  before,  and 
he  was  almost  dumb-struck  by  his  good  fortune. 
There  was  much  in  his  new  circumstances  to  quicken 
and  encourage  him.  In  the  atmosphere  of  that  home 
he  grew  speedily  in  knowledge,  refinement  and  self- 
respect.     There,  really  for  the  first  time,  he  was  ad- 


HIS  LIFE  IN  SUSSEX  AND  CAMPBELL.  123 

vantageously  situated  for  study.  His  facilities  were 
far  short  of  the  best,  but  they  were  greatly  superior 
to  all  that  he  had  known  in  the  past.  Mr.  Cham- 
bliss  was  a  gentleman  of  far  more  than  ordinary  in- 
telligence, and  was  deeply  devout  in  his  spirit.  He 
was  full  of  kindness,  and  was  very  companionable 
with  his  youthful  protege.  In  his  society  there  was 
much  to  arouse  a  young  man  to  noble  endeavors. 

Another  happy  feature  of  his  new  home  was  the 
library.  From  his  early  boyhood  he  had  been 
hungry  for  books.  The  sight  of  a  book  would 
charm  him  away  from  almost  any  circle  of  company. 
He  had  always  read  everything  that  he  could  put 
his  hands  upon,  but  for  most  of  the  time  there  had 
not  been  many  books  of  any  kind  in  his  reach.  Now 
there  was  a  change  for  the  better.  He  came  in  con- 
tact with  the  written  thought  of  the  world.  Not 
that  his  benefactor  had  any  great  collection  of 
books,  but  there  was  a  better  assortment  than  he 
had  enjoyed  before.  We  can  readily  imagine  with 
what  intense  relish  he  devoured  the  new  feast  there 
spread  before  him.  His  long-famished  mind  revelled 
in  its  new  luxuries,  and  grew  wonderfully  in  wisdom 
and  strength. 

Up  to  that  time  he  had  not  been  creditably  equip- 
ped for  public  life.  Beginning  without  means,  he 
had  toiled  along  without  salary,  and  really  he  had 
not  been  able  to  provide  himself  with  a  comely  out- 
fit. He  was  not  fastidious,  and  far  too  sensible  to 
allow  a  false  pride  to  curb  his  religious  zeal.  At  the 
same  time,  as  he  was  brought  in  contact  with  others 
who  dressed  in  more  attractive  style,  he  must  have 


124  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

sometimes  felt  humiliated.  He  had  a  decided  fond- 
ness for  display,  and,  of  course,  it  cut  him  to  the  bone 
"when  he  was  put  at  a  disadvantage.  The  tradition 
of  his  ill-fitting  suit  of  home-spun  which  he  always 
wore  in  his  early  preaching  days  has  had  a  long  and 
popular  run.  It  has  been  repeated  a  thousand  times 
and  with  many  variations.  His  "jeans  uniform," 
with  its  loose  and  slouchy  swing,  with  coat-sleeves 
too  short,  and  with  pants  exaggerated  in  width,  and 
notoriously  deficient  in  length,  was  no  mean  part  of 
"  the  stock  in  trade  "  of  some  who  delighted  to  tell 
ludicrous  incidents  at  his  expense.  The  tradition 
was  not  without  its  historic  basis.  His  manner  of 
dress  was  conspicuously  plain,  and  that  from  stern 
necessity.  When  his  uncouth  costume  had  become 
a  thing  of  the  past,  he  sometimes  spoke  of  it  with 
mingled  merriment  and  pathos.  This  he  could  well 
afford  to  do,  as  in  his  later  life  he  had  become  accus- 
tomed to  dress  with  almost  faultless  taste,  but  I  ven- 
ture to  say  that  he  enjoyed  it  far  more  in  the  retro- 
spect than  he  did  at  the  time.  When  he  went  to 
Sussex,  his  thoughtful  benefactor  furnished  him 
means  for  providing  a  more  creditable  outfit. 

There  was  another  advantage.  His  residence  in 
Lower  Virginia  gave  him  access  to  a  better  class  of 
churches.  The  Baptists  in  that  section  were  strong 
and,  for  the  times,  intelligent  and  Avell  organized.  In 
almost  every  congregation  there  were  trained  and 
critical  auditors,  and  this  stimulated  him  in  his  stud- 
ies and  in  his  public  ministrations. 

Of  his  experience  in  Sussex  he  has  this  to  say. 


HIS  LIFE  IN  SUSSEX  AND  CAMPBELL.  J  25 

MY   RESIDENCE   IN   SUSSEX   COUNTY. 

My  visit  to  the  county  occurred  in  this  way:  Elder  Na- 
thaniel Chambliss,  pastor  of  the  High  Hills  and  Sappony  Bap- 
tist Churches,  had  relatives  residing  in  Bedford  County,  near  the 
home  of  Daniel  Witt.  Through  them  he  heard  of  the  popular- 
ity and  success  of  the  young  evangelist,  and  invited  him,  just 
before  the  meeting  in  Richmond,  which  organized  the  General 
Association,  to  visit  the  county  and  preach  to  his  churches. 
Witt  requested  me  to  accompany  him,  and  I  cheerfully  acceded 
to  the  request. 

At  the  close  of  the  General  Association  we  commenced  our 
journey  to  Sussex,  which  then  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  remote  part 
of  the  world.  Our  first  destination  was  Petersburg.  Here  we 
spent  a  Lord's  Day.  We  were  hospitably  entertained  by  Brother 
Davenport,  the  main  supporter  of  the  Baptist  Church  in  the 
place.  It  was  a  feeble  body,  had  recently  erected  a  house  of 
worship  on  a  rivulet,  far  below  the  subsequent  grade  of  the 
street,  for  which  they  were  deeply  in  debt.  They  had  sent  out, 
or  shortly  after  sent  out,  an  itinerant  English  minister,  named 
Marcher,  to  collect  money  for  the  payment  of  their  debt.  The 
arrangement  added  slightly  to  its  amount ;  but  the  generous 
agent  accepted  his  collections  as  full  compensation  for  his  labors. 
It  was  arranged  for  brother  Witt  and  myself  to  preach  on  Sun- 
day. Brother  Davenport  had  heard  Witt  preach  in  Richmond, 
and  was  greatly  pleased  with  his  gifts ;  but  he  had  serious  doubts 
of  my  capacity  to  edify  a  Petersburg  audience.  It  was  ap- 
pointed that  Witt  should  preach  in  the  morning  and  in  the 
evening,  the  usual  times  of  preaching  ;  and,  to  avoid  mortifica- 
tion, it  was  provided  that  I  should  hold  an  afternoon  service. 
Witt  acquitted  himself  well,  as  he  was  one  of  the  surest  extempore 
preachers  I  have  ever  known.  The  afternoon  was  warm,  my 
congregation  was  very  small  and  sleepy,  and,  in  my  sermon,  I 
fulfilled  the  most  gloomy  forebodings  of  good  brother  Daven- 
port. He,  no  doubt,  felt  thankful  that  he  had  so  judiciously  ar- 
ranged our  appointments  that  I  had  brought  but  slight  reproach 
on  the  cause  which  he  had  deeply  at  heart. 

On  Monday  we  renewed  our  journey  to  Sussex.  Of  the  trip  I 
remember  nothing,  except  my  surprise  and  amusement  at  seeing, 


126  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

on  the  road,  long  poles  attached  to  tall  posts,  with  a  bucket  at 
one  end,  to  draw  water  from  the  shallow  wells.  Such  an  ar- 
rangement was  not  only  new  to  me,  but  would  have  been  im- 
practicable in  the  deep  wells  of  the  Piedmont  country.  We 
reached  the  hospitable  home  of  Brother  Chambliss  late  in  the 
afternoon.  It  was  a  comfortable  dwelling  on  the  road  from 
Petersburg  to  Bellfield,  not  far  from  the  point  at  which  the  Pe- 
tersburg and  Weldon  Railroad  now  crosses  the  Nottoway  River, 
but  long  before  railroads  had  been  heard  of.  We  were  received 
with  great  cordiality  ;  and,  for  several  weeks,  preached  in  the 
surrounding  neighborhoods  to  large  and  interested  congrega- 
tions. Witt's  engagements  necessitated  his  early  return  to  Bed- 
ford ;  but,  through  the  persuasion  of  Brother  Chambliss  and  the 
churches,  and  the  encouraging  prospect  of  usefulness,  I  was  in- 
duced to  remain  in  the  county. 

This  was  my  first  residence  beyond  my  paternal  roof;  and 
certainly  no  stranger  ever  found  a  more  pleasant  home.  Brother 
Chambliss  boarded  me  and  my  horse  gratuitously,  made  me 
generous  and  timely  presents,  and  urged  the  churches  to  contri- 
bute to  my  support.  His  excellent  wife  vied  with  him  in  kind- 
ness, and  spared  neither  pains  nor  expense  to  render  my  situa- 
tion pleasant.  Had  I  been  an  only  son  on  a  visit  to  them,  after 
an  absence  of  seven  years,  and  expecting  to  leave  them  in  a  few 
weeks  to  see  them  no  more  on  earth,  they  could  not  have  treated 
me  with  greater  consideration  and  kindness  than  they  did 
throughout  the  three  years  that  I  sojourned  with  them.  They 
laid  me  under  imperishable  obligations.  While  they  lived  I 
venerated  them  ;  and,  though  they  have  been  dead  many  years, 
I  have  not  ceased  to  hold  them  in  grateful  remembrance,  and 
rejoice  in  this  opportunity  of  making  a  record  of  their  excellence. 
Elder  Chambliss  was  an  honest,  earnest,  consistent  Christian. 
In  industry  and  management  he  was  an  example  to  the  whole 
community.  As  a  preacher  he  was  sensible,  solid  and  faithful, 
laboring  for  nothing,  and  contributing  largely  to  the  pecuniary 
support  of  his  churches.  Mrs.  Chambliss,  ("  Aunt  Judy,"  as  she 
was  generally  called),  was  in  all  respects  worthy  of  her  husband 
— gentle,  discreet,  hospitable,  a  neat  and  systematic  housekeep- 
er ;  in  short,  a  pastor's  model  wife.     If  their  monuments  corre- 


HIS  LIFE  IN  SUSSEX  AND  CAMPBELL.  127 

sponded  in  height  and  beauty  with  the  excellence  of  their  char- 
acters, they  would  attract  the  attention  and  win  the  admiration 
of  all  who  might  pass  them. 

My  labors  were  not  confined  to  the  county  of  Sussex.  The 
house  of  Mr.  Chambliss  was  not  my  constant  home,  but  my 
headquarters.  It  was  far  more  common  then  than  it  is  now  for 
preachers  to  itinerate.  Pastors  labored  much  as  evangelists.  I 
had  but  little  seed  to  sow,  but  I  scattered  it  unsparingly  over  a 
vast  field.  I  preached  through  the  counties  of  Greensville, 
Brunswick,  Lunenburg,  Dinwiddie,  Prince  George,  Surry, 
Southampton,  Isle  of  Wight,  and,  indeed,  all  the  counties  from 
Sussex  to  the  seaboard,  between  the  James  River  and  the  North 
Carolina  line,  besides  in  several  counties  of  that  State.  Some- 
times I  labored  under  the  patronage  of  the  General  Association, 
and  at  other  times  as  an  independent  evangelist.  One  year  I 
preached  monthly,  as  a  quasi  pastor,  at  Mill  Swamp  Church,  in 
Isle  of  Wight  County,  to  large  congregations.  Of  the  results  of 
my  desultory  labors  I  can  form  no  estimate.  During  my  resi- 
dence in  Sussex  an  interesting  revival  occurred  at  High  Hills, 
by  which  many  disciples  were  added  to  the  church,  and  the 
members  were  greatly  refreshed. 

My  stay  in  the  county  was  attended  with  very  important  con- 
sequences to  me  It  gave  such  opportunities  for  reading  and 
studying  as  I  had  not  before  enjoyed.  Elder  Chambliss  had  a 
small,  but  well  selected  library  ;  and  I  was  enabled  to  buy  such 
books  as  I  most  needed.  Of  these  advantages  I  diligently 
availed  myself.  When  I  was  at  home,  especially  in  the  winter 
seasons,  I  read  and  studied  with  an  unquestionable  thirst  for 
knowledge.  I  devoured  Dwight's  Theology,  Mosheim's  Ecclesi- 
astical History,  and  many  other  volumes  of  real  merit.  Proba- 
bly, in  no  equal  period  of  my  life  did  I  acquire  so  much  useful 
knowledge,  or  contribute  so  largely  to  my  habit  of  studying  as 
during  my  sojourn  in  Sussex. 

On  the  4th  of  May,  1824,  I  was  ordained  to  the  work  of  the 
Christian  ministry,  at  High  Hills  meeting-house,  by  Elders  Na- 
thaniel Chambliss  and  John  D.  Williams.  It  was  to  me  an  oc- 
casion of  deep  and  solemn  interest.  In  the  morning  I  read,  on 
my  knees,  the  epistles  of  Paul  to  Timothy,  with  earnest  atten- 


128  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

tion,  that  I  might  understand  the  weighty  responsibilities  I  was 
about  publicly  to  assume.  At  that  time  not  more  than  two  or 
three  Baptist  ministers  in  the  State  received  salaries  adequate  to 
their  support.  I  solemnly  resolved  before  God  that,  so  long  as  I 
should  receive  the  necessaries  of  life  by  preaching,  I  would  give 
myself  wholly  to  the  ministry.  The  sermon  on  the  occasion  was 
preached  by  Elder  Williams,  from  Matt.  xxiv.  45  :  "  Who  then 
is  a  faithful  and  wise  servant,  whom  his  Lord  hath  made  ruler 
over  his  household,  to  give  them  meat  in  clue  season  ?"  Of  the 
services  after  the  lapse  of  more  than  half  a  century,  I  remember 
but  little.  The  ordaining  prayer  was  offered,  as  I  suppose,  by 
Elder  Chambliss.  That  it  was  sincere  and  fervent,  I  have  no 
question ;  but  in  what  measure  I  have  been  indebted  to  it  for 
my  usefulness  in  life,  only  God  knows.  I  desire  to  record  that, 
in  a  period  of  more  than  fifty-four  years,  I  have  maintained  in- 
violate the  solemn  pledge  I  made  on  the  day  of  my  ordination, 
and,  though  my  labors  have  been  mostly  among  a  plain,  poor 
people,  and  my  earthly  supplies  have  often  been  meagre,  I  have 
never  known  want,  or  been  hindered  in  my  appropriate  work  by 
secular  care. 

I  never  considered  Sussex  my  permanent  home.  I  was  not 
pastor  of  any  church,  but  merely  the  assistant  of  Elder  Cham- 
bliss  in  the  pastorate  of  two  small  country  churches.  In  the 
spring  of  1826  I  deemed  it  my  duty  to  leave  my  pleasant  Sussex 
home.  On  the  morning  of  my  departure  I  read,  at  family 
worship,  the  twentieth  chapter  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles.  There 
was  some  similarity  between  the  separation  of  Paul  from  his 
Ephesian  brethren  and  my  departure  from  my  Sussex  friends  ; 
especially  in  the  fact  that  I  "  kneeled  down  and  prayed  with 
them  all,  and  they  all  wept  sore."  The  venerable  Chambliss  I 
saw  no  more.  After  a  few  years  of  absence  I  visited  his  home,  and 
had  the  melancholy  pleasure  of  standing  by  his  grave,  and 
calling  to  grateful  remembrance  his  paternal  kindness  to  me 
in  years  past.  Sister  Chambliss  I  saw  but  two  or  three  times 
after  I  ceased  to  dwell  in  her  house.  She  lived  several  years, 
filled  up  her  life  with  deeds  of  charity  and  devotion,  and  was 
peacefully  dismissed  to  enter  into  the  enjoyment  of  her  eternal  re- 
ward. 


HIS  LIFE  IN  SUSSEX  AND  CAMPBELL.  129 

While  in  Sussex  he  attended  a  meeting  of  the 
Portsmouth  Baptist  Association,  and  below  is  his 
account  of  it.  It  is  worthy  of  note  that  in  his  re- 
ports of  those  early  associational  meetings  he  touches 
very  lightly  upon  their  proceedings.  With  all  re- 
spect to  the  dear  old  fathers  of  those  times,  it  may 
be  said  that  they  did  not  "  proceed "  very  vigor- 
ously. They  moved  at  a  leisurely  pace.  They  had 
no  important  missionary  enterprises  on  hand,  and 
they  had  no  place  for  those  thrilling  and  memorable 
discussions  which  are  often  enjoyed  in  the  district 
meetings  of  the  present  day.  It  is  interesting  to 
notice  that  even  in  those  days  the  "  Baptist  lay- 
man "  was  a  prominent  figure,  and  was  heard  on 
every  occasion. 

THE   PORTSMOUTH   ASSOCIATION. 

In  May,  1824,  the  Portsmouth  Baptist  Association  held  its 
anniversary  in  the  town  of  Portsmouth,  where  it  was  organized 
in  1791.  I  then  resided  in  Sussex  County,  and  accompanied  the 
venerable  Chambliss  to  the  meeting.  We  made  the  journey  by 
private  conveyance,  and  shared  in  the  hospitality  of  the  brethren 
by  the  way.  The  Association  convened  in  the  Baptist  Church, 
a  framed  building,  on  or  near  the  spot  where  now  stands  the 
neat  and  comfortable  Baptist  worship-house.  Rev.  David  M. 
Woodson,  from  Campbell  County,  Va.,  was  the  pastor  of  the 
flock.  Doctor  Bowers,  a  layman  of  fine  appearance,  polished 
manners,  and  great  intelligence,  was  Moderator  of  the  body. 
Jacob  Darden,  Reverend,  I  think  he  was,  though  from  age  and 
feebleness  of  health  he  preached  but  little,  was  clerk  of  the 
Association.  He  was  tall,  spare  and  of  venerable  appearance. 
He  was  the  Nestor  of  the  body,  and  would  have  been  considered 
wise,  discreet  and  excellent  in  any  assembly  of  intelligent,  good 
men.  The  prominent  ministers  of  the  Association  were,  beside 
those  already  named,  Chambliss,  Murrel,  Sherv/ood,  Cornelius 
and  Brown.  The  meeting  was  remarkable  for  the  number  and 
9 


130  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

the  ability  of  laymen  who  took  part  in  its  business.  Besides  the 
Moderator,  I  remember  Josiah  Holliman  and  Benjamin  Griffin, 
all  of  whom,  at  one  time  or  another,  were  members  of  the  State 
Legislature.  Among  the  visiting  ministers  whom  I  call  to  mind 
were  Richard  Poindexter,  the  father  of  the  late  Dr.  A.  M.  Poin- 
dexter,  and  William  H.  Jordan,  the  half-brother  of  the  doctor, 
from  Bertie  County,  North  Carolina. 

Of  the  proceedings  of  the  Association  I  recollect  nothing,  ex- 
cept a  discussion  on  the  validity  of  Pedobaptist  immersions.  In 
this  conflict  I  fleshed  my  youthful  sword,  and  was  ingloriously 
defeated.  I  had  associated  with  Semple,  A.  Broaddus  and  others 
among  the  fathers,  who  maintained  the  validity  of  such  bap- 
tisms, and  had  adopted  their  views.  As  this  side  of  the  subject 
seemed  to  be  feebly  supported,  I  ventured,  with  probablv  more 
courage  than  discretion,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  to  engage 
in  religious  controversy.  My  rashness  evoked  the  chastising  rod 
of  Richard  Poindexter.  He  was  about  fifty  years  old,  of  me- 
dium size,  of  swarthy  complexion,  possessed  of  a  mind  remarkable 
for  astuteness,  and  great  self-possession  and  readiness  in  extempore 
debate.  Dr.  Poindexter,  with  greater  culture  and  more  breadth 
of  mind,  bore  a  strong  intellectual  resemblance  to  his  sire.  It 
may  reasonably  be  supposed  that  I  was  over-matched  in  the  de- 
bate. I  remember  but  a  single  illustration  in  the  speech  of  El- 
der Poindexter.  "  Roundness,"  he  said,  "  is  essential  to  a  bullet; 
beat  it  flat,  and  it  will  cease  to  be  a  bullet.  So  certain  things  — 
an  authorized  administrator  among  them — are  essential  to  bap- 
tism, and  without  these  things  it  is  not  baptism."  I  made,  so  far 
as  I  can  recollect,  no  attempt  to  reply.  The  Association  decided 
by  an  overwhelming  vote  that  Pedobaptist  immersions  are  not 
valid  baptisms.    I  was  defeated,  but  not  convinced. 

William  H.  Jordan  was  the  central  object'of  attraction  at  the 
meeting.  He  was  nineteen  years  old,  a  widower,  of  pleasing  ap- 
pearance and  manners,  possessed  an  ample  fortune,  had  just  been 
converted  and  baptized  in  a  most  extraordinary  religious  revival, 
which  prevailed  in  Bertie  and  the  contiguous  regions,  and  had 
entered  the  ministry  coetaneously  with  his  baptism.  He  preached 
in  the  Baptist  Church  in  Portsmouth,  at  night,  to  a  crowded 
audience.     His  text  was   Eccl.  xii.    1  :    "  Remember   now  thy 


HIS  LIFE  IN  SUSSEX  AND  CAMPBELL.  131 

Creator  in  the  days  of  thy  youth."  Considering  his  age  and  in- 
experience, it  was  a  remarkable  sermon.  It  was  less  pathetic 
and  winning  than  the  best  efforts  of  Daniel  Witt ;  but  certainly 
equal,  and  probably  superior,  to  them  in  fluency  and  in  brilliancy 
of  illustration.  I  went  immediately  from  Portsmouth  to  the  first 
anniversary  of  the  General  Association  in  Lynchburg,  and  re- 
ported that  I  had  heard  a  young  preacher  in  Portsmouth  who 
was  destined  to  be  a  rival  of  Whitefield  in  pulpit  eloquence. 

On  the  Sunday  of  the  Association  I  preached  for  Brother 
Cornelius  in  the  Cumberland  Street  Church,  Norfolk,  from  the 
text,  Rom.  v.  1  :  "  Therefore  being  justified  by  faith,  we  have 
peace  with  God  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  Of  the  sermon 
I  retain  no  remembrance,  except  that  it  was  delivered  with  free- 
dom and  pleasure,  and  secured  words  of  approval  and  encour- 
agement from  the  pastor. 

The  pleasure  of  my  visit  was  greatly  enhanced  by  my  hospita- 
ble entertainment  in  the  family  of  Dr.  Schoolfield.  A  more 
pleasant  and  agreeable  home  I  could  not  have  had.  For  many 
years  the  doctor's  house  was  known  as  the  attractive  resort  of 
Baptist  ministers  visiting  Portsmouth.  He  was  an  intelligent 
and  successful  physician,  a  genial  companion  and  a  generous 
friend  ;  but,  in  some  respects,  quite  peculiar.  He  was  morbidly 
conscientious.  He  had  been  for  many  years  a  Baptist,  but 
whether  he  was  in  communion  with  the  church  I  cannot  say. 
He  was  upright,  temperate,  prudent  and  universally  respected ; 
but  he  was  constantly  despairing  of  his  salvation.  No  one 
doubted  his  piety  but  himself ;  and  his  doubts  arose  from  his  of- 
fences, which  to  others  seemed  mere  trifles.  On  one  occasion  he 
made  me  his  father-confessor.  He  was  in  deep  sorrow  and 
gloom,  and  anxious  to  learn  whether  his  salvation  was  possible. 
This  was  the  cause  of  his  trouble  and  despair.  When  he  was  a 
boy  (he  was  now  near  sixty  years  old)  a  house  was  burned  in 
the  town  of  Portsmouth.  He  and  other  boys  gathered  the  iron 
from  the  ruins,  sold  it  for  a  trifle  and  divided  the  money  among 
themselves.  It  did  not  occur  to  him  till  many  years  afterwards 
that  the  act  was  a  theft.  He  endeavored  earnestly,  but  unsuc- 
cessfully, to  find  the  person  robbed  or  his  heirs,  that  he  might 
restore  the  ill-gotten  treasure.     Failing  in  this  effort,  he  paid  to 


132  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

the  mayor  of  the  town  a  sum  equal,  as  he  supposed,  to  the 
amount  which  he  obtained  from  the  spoils,  with  interest  down  to 
the  time  of  this  settlement,  to  be  distributed  among  the  poor- 
Yet  his  mind  was  not  at  ease.  He  wished  me  to  tell  him  whether 
I  thought  it  was  possible  for  him  to  be  saved  without  making 
reparation  to  the  persons  injured  by  the  theft.  I  do  not  call  to 
mind  the  counsel  which  I  gave  him,  but  I  was  convinced  that  he 
needed  physic  more  than  instruction.  No  teaching  can  heal  a 
mind  diseased.  I  pitied,  but  greatly  admired  the  man,  against 
whom  a  morbid,  sensitive,  searching  conscience  could  find  no 
graver  accusation,  in  a  period  of  forty  years,  than  a  boyish  in- 
discretion. The  doctor  became  later  in  life  a  confirmed  hypo- 
chondriac, and  died,  I  think,  as  he  had  lived,  almost  or  quite 
despairing  of  his  salvation.  In  view  of  such  an  affliction,  how 
consolatory  and  cheering  are  the  words  of  the  Psalmist :  "  Like 
as  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that 
fear  him.  For  he  knoweth  our  frame  ;  he  remembereth  that  we 
are  dust." 

Jeter  remained  in  Sussex  County  for  nearly  three 
years.  While  a  diligent  student,  he  was  also  an  ac- 
tive preacher.  It  seems  that  he  never  became  a 
pastor  while  living  in  Sussex,  but  preached  as  an 
itinerant,  extending  his  labors  into  five  or  six  coun- 
ties. Whether  his  failure  to  become  a  pastor  was  a 
matter  of  choice  with  him,  or  whether  the  conserva- 
tive Baptists  of  those  times  esteemed  him  too  young 
for  the  bishop's  office,  are  questions  which  he  does 
not  answer.  We  only  know  that  in  the  spring  of 
1826  he  bade  adieu  to  the  lowlands  of  Virginia,  quit 
his  adopted  home,  and  turned  his  face  once  more  to- 
ward his  native  mountains ;  but  he  did  not  go  to 
Bedford.  He  was  now  to  enter  upon  regular  pas- 
toral duty,  and  according  to  the  inexorable  law,  he 
who  was  a  Bedford  man  could  not  be  a  Bedford  pastor. 


HIS  LIFE  IN  SUSSEX  AND  CAMPBELL.  133 

It  was  in  the  county  of  Campbell  that  he  was  for 
the  first  time  to  undertake  the  pastoral  role.  He 
has  not  told  us  how  it  came  to  pass,  that  he  deter- 
mined to  settle  in  that  county.  He  was  evidently 
influenced  in  part  by  his  anxiety  to  escape  the  ma- 
larial troubles  of  Lower  Virginia. 

He  was  not  a  pastor  in  Campbell,  but  preached 
regularly  at  Union  Hill  and  Hill's  Creek  churches. 
One  of  these  had  a  pastor,  and  both  were  very  fee- 
ble bodies.     He  regarded  himself  as  an  assistant. 

It  went  not  very  prosperously  with  him  in  his 
chosen  field.  It  was  a  tame  and  uninspiring  posi- 
tion. The  romance  and  excitement  of  his  rambling 
life  utterly  vanished,  and  he  found  himself  linked 
with  a  dull  and  uncongenial  field.  For  some  unex- 
plained reason  he  did  not  take.  He  tugged  away 
with  all  his  ardent  and  inflexible  energy,  but  he  won 
little  fruit,  and  when  at  the  end  of  eighteen  months 
he  handed  in  his  resignation,  he  felt  that  it  was  good 
to  get  away. 

He  always  recurred  to  his  Campbell  pastorate  as 
the  most  unproductive  and  discouraging  part  of  his 
entire  ministerial  life.  He  told  me  that  he  left  the 
field  with  a  poignant  sense  of  failure,  not  knowing, 
indeed,  that  he  had  accomplished  any  good. 

It  was  a  withering  experience  for  a  young  man  of 
his  mettle.  It  was  a  terrible  chastisement.  It  un- 
veiled before  him  the  trials  and  obstacles  of  a  minis- 
ter's life  as  he  had  never  seen  them  before. 

And  yet  it  is  quite  certain  that  he  exaggerated  his 
failure.  It  was  not  so  complete  as,  in  his  mortifica- 
tion, he  imagined.     Years  afterwards,  when  he  had 


134  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETEE,  D.D. 

risen  to  distinction,  and  could  well  afford  to  admit 
that  his  first  pastoral  service  was  unsuccessful,  he 
chanced  to  meet  a  cultivated  Christian  woman,  prom- 
inently connected,  and  highly  honored  for  her  useful- 
ness, who  told  him  that  she  was  led  to  Christ  under 
his  ministrations,  while  he  was  preaching  in  Camp- 
bell. Perhaps  there  were  other  fruits  which  sprang 
from  the  seed  that  he  sowed  in  that  seemingly  bar- 
ren soil,  of  which  he  will  know  nothing  till  the  last 
day. 

It  may  occur  to  some  that  this  is  a  fit  place  for 
the  historian  to  speculate  on  the  causes  which  led 
to  the  comparative  failure  of  his  labors  in  Campbell. 
Inasmuch  as  I  do  not  know  that  it  was  a  failure,  and 
since,  too,  I  would  not  know  how  to  explain  it  if  I 
knew  that  it  was  a  failure,  I  beg  to  be  excused.  One 
fact,  however,  may  be  mentioned.  He  declined  a  far 
more  important  call  to  the  northern  neck  of  Vir- 
ginia, in  order  to  accept  the  field  in  Campbell. 

This  was  evidently  a  mistake,  which  in  time  he 
realized  and  corrected.  The  Lord  had  need  for  him 
in  the  position  from  which  he  had  turned  away,  and 
by  his  own  inscrutable  dealings,  he  led  him  to  the 
post  of  duty. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  NORTHERN  NECK. 

DR.  JETER  spent  nine  years  in  the  Northern 
Neck  of  Virginia,  and  he  ever  afterwards 
regarded  it  as  the  most  important  period  of 
his  life.  After  the  cheerless  experiences  of  Camp- 
bell, he  must  have  found  the  change  delightful.  He 
was  brought  in  contact  with  new  people,  and  many 
of  them  were  devout  and  intelligent,  far  beyond  the 
average.  The  churches  to  whose  charge  he  went, 
had  been  anxious  for  several  years  to  secure  his  ser- 
vices, and  when  at  last  he  came,  they  received  him 
with  many  demonstrations  of  joy.  He  always  said 
that  really  his  first  pastorate  was  in  the  Northern 
Neck ;  there  he  found  an  open  path  to  usefulness, 
and  from  the  outset  the  blessing  of  God  manifestly 
attended  his  labors.  When  in  his  old  age  he  wrote 
his  "  Recollections,"  he  dwelt  long  and  lovingly  upon 
that  portion  of  his  life.  Of  no  other  portion  of  his 
life  did  he  write  with  such  peculiar  unction. 

There  is  nothing  for  me  to  do,  except  to  present 
his  several  papers  which  bear  upon  his  career  in 
the  Northern  Neck,  and  to  add  such  facts  as  have 
been  gleaned  from  other  sources. 

His  first  visit  to  that  section  of  country  was  made 

135 


136  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

near  the  close  of  1825.  He  was  then  in  his  twenty- 
fourth  year,  and  yet  so  pleasantly  did  he  impress 
the  people  who  had  enjoyed  the  able  ministrations  of 
Samuel  L.  Straughan  and  Lewis  Lunsford,  that  they 
at  once  called  him  to  be  their  pastor.  He  declined 
the  invitation,  and  assigned  three  reasons  for  his 
action.  Tidewater  people  will  probably  smile  when 
he  tells  them  that  he  was  influenced  in  part  by  the 
dread  of  the  malarial  diseases,  prevalent  at  times  in 
the  Northern  Neck.  A  mountaineer  would  regard 
his  decision  as  a  sufficient  proof  of  his  excellent  sense 
and  discretion. 

In  those  days  especially,  people  in  the  upper  por- 
tions of  Virginia  looked  with  actual  terror  upon 
chills  and  fever.  I  recall  distinctly  the  fact  that  I 
never  saw  a  real  victim  of  that  dread  affliction  until 
I  was  twenty  years  old. 

A  young  man  came  into  our  community  who  had 
been  living  in  the  malarial  region,  and  he  shocked 
his  friends  one  day  by  having  a  chill.  Very  few 
had  ever  witnessed  such  a  spectacle.  His  case 
excited  alarm,  and  if  he  had  suddenly  expired,  many 
would  have  supposed  that  it  was  only  such  a  result 
as  ought  to  be  expected  under  the  circumstances. 

It  was  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  young  Jeter 
should  have  recoiled  from  the  idea  of  settling  in  a 
community  where  he  might,  at  any  moment,  inhale 
the  deadly  miasma.  I  must  confess,  however,  that 
it  was  a  little  singular  that  after  living  for  several 
years  in  the  swamps  of  Southeastern  Virginia,  he 
should  have  been  so  afraid  of  the  Northern  Neck. 
But  we  will  let  him  tell  the  story  of  his  first  visit  to 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  137 

a  community  in  which  afterwards  he  was  to  play  so 
brilliant  and  conspicuous  a  part. 

THE   NORTHERN   NECK. 

The  Peninsula  between  the  Rappahannock  and  the  Potomac 
Rivers,  bounded  on  the  east  by  the  Chesapeake  Bay,  is  called  the 
Northern  Neck,  because  it  lies  on  the  northern  border  of  the  State. 
It  is  distinguished  as  the  birth-place  of  Washington,  Madison, 
Monroe,  the  Lees  and  other  persons  famous  in  American  his- 
tory. It  was  consecrated  in  my  eyes  as  the  abode  and  field  of 
labor  of  Samuel  L.  Straughan  and  Louis  Lunsford,  two  Baptist 
ministers,  who  had  left  behind  them  a  fragrant  reputation.  I 
was  desirous  to  visit  the  region,  and  occupy  the  pulpits  honored 
by  the  presence  and  the  ministrations  of  these  venerable  men. 

At  the  Dover  Association,  held  in  Essex  County,  in  the  year 
1825,  where  I  first  saw  John  Kerr  and  Alexander  Campbell,  I 
met  several  brethren  from  Lancaster  County,  seeking  a  pastor  for 
Morattico  Baptist  Church.  Through  their  solicitation  I  made 
arrangements  to  visit  them  at  the  close  of  the  year.  On  Christ- 
mas morning  I  left  the  city  of  Richmond,  on  horseback,  in  com- 
pany with  the  late  Rev.  Addison  Hall,  not  then  a  minister,  but  a 
member  of  the  Virginia  Legislature,  who  availed  himself  of  the 
holidays  to  visit  his  family  in  Lancaster.  There  was  nothing  of 
special  interest  in  the  trip;  but  my  arrival  in  the  Northern  Neck 
was  an  epoch  in  my  life.  It  had  no  little  influence  on  my  des- 
tiny. The  Neck  was  to  be,  for  some  years,  the  scene  of  toils, 
anxieties,  pleasures  and  sorrows  which  were  to  exert  a  moulding 
power  over  my  character. 

The  first  event  that  I  remember,  after  reaching  the  peninsula, 
was  a  trifle  that  might  well  have  been  forgotten.  Colonel  Hall,  on 
meeting  one  of  his  neighbors,  said  to  him,  "  How  are  you,  Mr.  G.?  " 
"About,"  he  said,  "all  to  a  bad  cold."  He  was  about,  in  spite  of 
his  cold,  with  no  mark  of  disease  upon  him.  I  afterwards  found 
the  expression  common  among  a  people  quite  remarkable  for  the 
purity  of  their  English. 

My  first  night  in  the  Neck  was  passed  at  Merry  Point,  the 
residence  of  my  honorable  guide.  Here  I  met  for  the  only  time 
Rev.  Daniel  Davis,  of  Fredericksburg,  who  was  on  a  preaching 


138  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

tour  through  the  Peninsula.  He  was  a  brother  of  Elder  John 
Davis,  under  whose  ministry  I  had  been  awakened  some  years 
before  in  Bedford  County,  of  medium  size,  about  sixty  years  old, 
and  of  rather  rugged  appearance.  He  differed  widely  from  his 
brother  John  in  spirit,  views  and  manner  of  preaching.  He  was 
not  opposed  to  missions,  but  held  extreme  Calvinistic  doctrines, 
bordering  on  antinomianism.  It  was  my  misfortune  to  get  into 
such  a  controversy  with  him  as  I  had  had,  a  few  years  before, 
with  his  namesake  of  Henry  County.  They  bore,  in  many  re- 
spects, a  striking  resemblance  to  each  other.  They  were  both 
endowed  with  vigorous  minds,  had  small  culture,  held  extreme 
doctrinal  views,  were  leaders  in  their  respective  spheres,  impa- 
tient of  contradiction  and  overbearing  in  debate.  I  had  not 
proceeded  far  in  the  discussion  before  I  was  imperatively  ordered 
by  my  antagonist  to  hush.  The  command  was  probably  wise ; 
and,  while  I  questioned  his  authority  to  issue  it,  I  promptly 
obeyed  it. 

Here  I  was  first  introduced  to  Deacon  Rawleigh  Dunaway,  the 
grandfather  of  Dr.  Dunaway,  of  Fredericksburg,  a  man  of  pecu- 
liar and  striking  qualities,  one  of  the  warmest  friends  that  I  have 
had  in  the  journey  of  life,  and  whom  I  shall  have  occasion  to 
mention  again. 

My  first  sermon  in  the  Neck  was  preached  to  a  good  congrega- 
tion in  Lancaster  Court-House,  on  the  1st  day  of  January,  1826, 
from  the  text,  if  I  mistake  not,  Phil.  iii.  8 :  "  Yea  doubtless,  and 
I  count  all  things  but  loss  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of 
Christ  Jesus  my  Lord."  Of  the  sermon  and  of  the  occasion  I  re- 
member but  little. 

On  this  visit  to  the  Northern  Neck  I  spent  several  weeks,  and 
preached  at  all  the  Baptist  meeting-houses  in  Lancaster  and 
Northumberland,  at  Farnham  Church  in  Richmond  County,  be- 
sides in  several  private  houses.  The  trip  was  to  me,  on  various 
accounts,  interesting  and  pleasant.  The  people  were  hospitable, 
kind  and  sociable.  I  formed  an  acquaintance  with  many  brethren 
notable  for  their  intelligence,  piety  and  usefulness,  — disciples  of 
Straughan  and  Lunsford,  whose  memories  were  redolent  in  all 
the  region.  Few  could  remember  Lunsford ;  but  anecdotes  of 
the  sermons,  sayings  and  deeds  of  Straughan  dwelt  on  almost 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  139 

every  tongue.  He  must  have  possessed  a  rare  power  of  impress- 
ing his  hearers.  I  have  seldom  conversed  with  a  man  who  heard 
him  preach  that  did  not  remember  his  text,  his  manner  of  treat- 
ing it,  and  many  of  his  illustrations  and  remarks.  Yet  I  never 
talked  with  a  man  who  had  heard  both  Straughan  and  Lunsford 
preach,  that  did  not  give  the  preference  to  the  latter.  In  judging, 
however,  of  their  comparative  abilities,  it  should  be  remembered 
that  the  witnesses  heard  Lunsford  in  their  youth,  while  their 
judgments  were  immature,  and  heard  Straughan  in  their  ma- 
turity, when  their  taste  was  refined  and  their  acumen  was  sharp- 
ened by  exercise.  They  were  both  extraordinary  men  for  their 
times  and  their  circumstances.  With  small  advantages  for  mental 
culture  and  few  sources  of  religious  information,  they  became, 
through  the  native  vigor  of  their  minds,  their  studious  habits  and 
their  close  observation,  preachers  of  rare  eloquence,  power  and 
success,  who  would  have  adorned  the  pulpit  in  any  land  and  in 
any  age.  I  drank  in  with  delight  the  stories  of  their  labors  and ' 
achievements,  and  deemed  it  an  honor  to  preach  in  the  pulpits 
which  they  consecrated,  and  to  the  congregations  which  once  sat 
under  their  enrapturing  ministry. 

After  I  had  spent  a  short  time  in  the  Neck,  I  was  invited  to 
the  pastorate  of  Morattico  Church.  Its  membership  had  been 
much  reduced  since  the  days  of  Straughan  ;  but  it  was  still 
a  respectable  body,  containing  many  estimable  members.  I 
promptly  declined  the  call,  for  three  reasons.  First:  The  region 
was  isolated,  having,  in  those  days,  before  it  was  visited  by 
steam-boats,  but  little  intercourse  with  the  rest  of  the  world.  It 
was  then  quite  a  trip  to  get  beyond  the  limits  of  the  Peninsula. 
Secondly :  I  feared  the  malarial  diseases,  more  or  less  prevalent 
every  autumn.  The  apprehension  was  not  imaginary.  After 
my  settlement  there  I  had  several  sharp  and  protracted  biliary 
attacks.  Thirdly :  The  country  was  in  an  impoverished  and 
depressed  condition.  It  had  not  recovered  from  the  injuries  in- 
flicted on  it  by  the  then  recent  war  with  Great  Britain.  Perhaps 
no  portion  of  the  United  States  had  suffered  more  severely  from 
the  conflict  than  the  Northern  Neck.  The  enemy  kept  a  large 
and  unresisted  fleet  in  the  Chesapeake  Bay  during  the  war,  and 
the  Neck  was  bordered  on  three  sides  by  deep,  navigable  water, 


140  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

and  intersected  by  many  bold  and  undefended  streams.  It  was 
entirely  at  the  mercy  of  the  enemy ;  and  they  made  good,  or 
rather  bad,  use  of  their  irresponsible  power.  A  large  number  of 
slaves  was  enticed  away,  many  valuable  dwellings  were  reduced 
to  ashes,  the  country  was  pillaged  aad  the  inhabitants  lived  in 
constant  dread  of  arrest  or  spoliation.  Many  of  the  best  and 
most  thrifty  settlers,  unwilling  to  live  in  such  constant  peril  and 
alarm,  sold  their  lands  at  greatly  reduced  prices,  or  left  them 
without  tenants  and  removed  to  the  upper  country.  The  Neck  was 
slowly  recovering  from  the  evils  inflicted  upon  it  by  the  war ;  but 
it  was  far  from  being  what  it  was  in  the  favored  times  of  the 
past,  or  what  it  became  a  few  years  afterwards. 

From  these  considerations,  I  deemed  it  my  duty  and  my  in- 
terest to  decline  the  invitation  so  kindly  extended  to  me.  I  left 
the  Neck,  with  many  regrets,  to  return  to  my  Sussex  home.  My 
removal  to  Campbell  County  soon  followed.  I  had  no  expec- 
tation of  residing  in  the  Peninsula.  God's  thoughts  are  not  as 
our  thoughts,  neither  are  our  ways  his  ways.  Already  influences 
wrere  in  operation  which  changed  my  purpose.  These  influences 
I  need  not  detail.  After  my  short  stay  in  Campbell,  I  removed, 
in  the  autumn  of  1827,  to  the  Northern  Neck,  and  I  was  in- 
stalled pastor  of  Morattico  Baptist  Church,  at  Kilmarnock  Meet- 
ing-House,  in  Lancaster  County.  It  was  organized  in  the  year 
1778  by  Lewis  Lunsford,  who  continued  his  pastorate  till  near 
the  close  of  the  century,  when  he  was  succeeded  by  Elder  Jacob 
Creath,  for  a  few  years,  and  afterwards  by  Straughan,  who  was 
my  immediate  predecessor.  The  sermon  on  the  occasion  of  my 
installation  was  preached  by  Rev.  Eli  Ball,  of  Henrico  County. 
I  do  not  remember  the  sermon  or  the  text ;  but  they  were  deemed 
appropriate  to  the  occasion,  and  the  services  made  a  fine  impres- 
sion on  the  large  congregation  in  attendance. 

It  had  been  more  than  six  years  from  the  death  of  Straughan 
before  I  became  pastor  of  Morattico  church.  During  this  time 
a  great  change  had  taken  place  in  the  religious  condition  of  the 
community.  The  pulpit  had  been  only  occasionally,  and  not 
very  profitably,  supplied  with  preaching.  Wicomico  Church,  in 
Northumberland  County,  had  called  to  the  pastorate  a  young 
man,  Rev.  Eli  S.  Patterson,  who  died  in  a  short  time,  leaving 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  141 

the  church  entirely  destitute  of  the  regular  ministrations  of  the 
word.  At  the  death  of  Straughan,  the  churches  were  large, 
prosperous  and  aggressive;  but  in  half  a  dozen  years,  receiving 
no  accessions,  they  had  been  greatly  reduced  in  numbers  by 
deaths,  removals  and  apostasies,  and  in  efficiency  by  the  lack  of 
instruction  and  leadership. 

The  Northern  Neck  was  included  within  the  limit  of  the  Bal- 
timore Methodist  Conference,  one  of  the  ablest  and  best  organ- 
ized of  all  their  conferences.  It  sent  strong,  earnest  and  active 
ministers  into  the  counties  rendered  vacant  by  the  death  of 
Straughan.  They  penetrated  every  nook  and  corner  of  the 
country,  and  wrought  a  great  revolution  in  the  religious  views 
and  preferences  of  the  people.  A  very  large  majority  of  the 
population  became  Methodists,  or  were  brought  under  Methodist 
influence. 

I  commenced  my  labors  in  the  Neck  under  great  disadvan- 
tages. Not  only  were  the  Methodists  exerting  a  preponderating 
influence,  but  preach  when  or  where  I  might,  my  appointment 
was  almost  sure  to  be  in  conflict  with  some  Methodist  meeting. 
They,  too,  had  almost  invariably  something  to  attract  a  congre- 
gation beyond  the  simple  merits  of  their  preachers.  Sometimes 
circuit-riders  would  be  preaching  their  introductory,  and  some- 
times their  valedictory,  sermons.  Quarterly  meetings,  camp- 
meetings  and  other  extraordinary  services  filled  up  almost  every 
Sunday,  and  constantly  attracted  the  crowd. 

One  circumstance  was  much  in  my  favor.  Baptists  were  com- 
paratively few ;  but  they  were  mostly  of  excellent  quality.  They 
were  gold  tried  in  the  fire.  The  unstable  and  the  unprincipled 
had  been  carried  away  as  chaff  before  the  wind ;  but  the  sin- 
cere, the  firmly  grounded  and  the  devout  remained  as  the  well- 
winnowed  wheat.  The  Wicomico  Church  was  soon  included  in 
my  pastorate,  and  no  bishop  ever  had  more  confiding,  affection- 
ate, earnest  and  efficient  helpers  than  I  had. 

I  remained  in  the  Northern  Neck  to  the  beginning  of  the 
year  1836 — a  little  more  than  nine  years.  It  was  probably  the 
most  important  period  of  my  life.  A  great  and  striking  change 
took  place  in  the  field  of  my  labor  during  this  period.  I  bap- 
tized about  one  thousand  persons,  nearly  an  equal  number  of 


142  LIFE  0F  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

whites  and  of  negroes.  Among  the  whites  were  many  of  the 
most  intelligent,  respectable  and  influential  persons  in  the  coun- 
ties of  Lancaster  and  Northumberland.  My  congregations  be- 
came large,  and  were  intelligent  and  respectful  as  well  as 
respectable.  Long  before  I  left  that  region  it  was  a  matter 
of  indifference  to  me  what  new  or  old  circuit-rider  or  popular 
presiding  elder  was  to  preach  in  the  vicinity  of  my  meetings. 
My  congregations  could  not  be  materially  diminished. 

I  may  mention  a  fact  illustrative  of  the  change  which  had 
taken  place.  During  my  residence  in  the  Neck  I  was  sued  for 
slander.  Of  all  the  events  of  my  life,  it  seemed  to  be  most  pro- 
motive of  my  interests.  I  need  not  give  the  details  of  the  case. 
The  suit  was  brought  on  a  misconception.  I  had  not  slandered 
the  plaintiff,  but,  if  opportunity  had  offered,  would  have  shown 
him  favor.  There  was,  however,  great  excitement  in  the  com- 
munity on  the  subject,  some  favoring  and  some  condemning  me. 
For  my  own  part,  I  was  thoroughly  mortified  and  humbled.  I 
have  never  prayed  so  earnestly,  never  preached  so  pathetically, 
and  never  labored  so  diligently  as  during  that  season  of  trial 
and  anxiety.  Inquiry  and  a  candid  statement  of  the  cause  of 
offence  turned  the  public  sympathy  in  my  favor.  A  great  reli- 
gious revival  ensued.  I  baptized  a  large  number  of  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  county.  When  the  trial  came  on  at  Northumberland 
Court-House,  no  jury  could  have  been  summoned  indiscrimin- 
ately the  half  of  whom  would  not  have  been  Baptists.  The  clerk 
and  sheriffs  were  Baptists.  The  judge  directed  the  high  sheriff, 
some  of  whose  family  I  had  recently  baptized,  to  summon  a  jury 
that  should  have  no  Baptists  on  it,  Faithfully,  no  doubt,  he  per- 
formed the  service,  but  summoned  three  or  four  persons  whom  I 
expected  to  baptize  at  my  next  meeting  in  the  neighborhood. 
The  suit  broke  down  from  the  failure  of  the  plaintiff  to  prove 
the  statements  in  his  declaration;  but  had  he  been  entitled  to 
damages,  the  jury  would  have  been  under  a  strong  bias  against 
awarding  them. 

Several  causes  contributed  to  the  success  of  my  ministrations 
in  the  Northern  Neck.  Among  these,  I  may  mention  my  per- 
manent residence  among  the  people.  The  circuit-riders  were 
mostly  intelligent,  pious  and  attractive  preachers ;  but  they  were 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  143 

comparatively  strangers.  They  did  not  remain  on  their  circuits 
long  enough  to  become  intimate  with  the  people.  While  their 
preaching  had  the  attractiveness  of  novelty,  they  lacked  the  in- 
fluence secured  by  friendship  and  intimacy.  I  met  the  people  at 
their  court-houses,  took  part  in  measures  designed  to  promote 
their  secular  interests,  visited  them  at  their  homes,  sympathized 
in  their  afflictions,  rejoiced  in  their  prosperity,  and,  in  short, 
became  identified  with  them  in  interest.  They  considered  me 
not  only  as  a  Christian  pastor,  but  as  a  fellow-citizen  concerned 
with  themselves  in  the  permanent  welfare  of  the  country.  In 
deciding  whether  they  would  attend  my  ministry  or  that  of  a 
stranger,  if  their  religious  priuciples  were  not  settled,  they  were 
usually  governed,  not  so  much  by  a  regard  to  talents  or  novelty, 
as  by  friendship  and  sectional  partiality.  I  became  convinced 
that  in  rural  districts,  at  least,  an  itinerant  ministry  cannot 
successfully  compete  with  settled  pastors  of  equal  gifts  and 
activity. 

It  is  also  proper  to  state  that  my  success  in  the  Northern  Neck 
was  largely  due  to  the  aid  that  I  received  from  visiting  minis- 
ters. The  camp-meetings,  of  which  notice  will  be  taken  in 
future  articles,  and  other  protracted  religious  services,  in  which 
I  was  assisted  by  ministers  of  rare  gifts  for  usefulness,  had  a 
large  share  in  building  up  the  churches  and  turning  public  sen- 
timent in  favor  of  the  Baptists. 

The  period  of  my  residence  in  the  Northern  Neck  was  proba- 
bly the  time  most  potential  in  the  formation  of  my  character 
and  the  development  of  my  gifts,  of  which,  by  the  way,  I  have 
no  cause  to  boast.  I  had  full  scope  for  the  exercise  of  my 
powers.  I  labored  diligently  and  faithfully,  and  never  preached 
a  sermon  which  I  did  not  think  I  could  excel,  and  which  I  did 
not  earnestly  endeavor  to  excel.  By  such  reading  as  my  desul- 
tory and  constant  labors  would  permit,  by  diligent  studies,  per- 
formed chiefly  on  horseback  or  in  a  sulky,  and  by  the  frequent 
exercise  of  my  gifts,  I  made  such  attainments  in  knowledge  and 
in  the  art  of  employing  it  usefully  as  I  could.  I  mention  these 
facts  for  the  encouragement  of  young  men,  who,  thirsting  for 
knowledge,  that  they  may  be  useful,  with  small  opportunities  for 
its  acquirement,  may  find  some  inspiration  in  my  example. 


144  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

A  singular  event  occurred  in  my  ministry  while  I  lived  in  the 
Neck.  I  had  an  appointment  to  preach  at  White  Chapel,  in 
the  upper  end  of  Lancaster  County.  It  was  an  old  colonial 
edifice,  large,  much  out  of  repair  and  little  used.  The  day  was 
showery ;  but  the  congregation,  considering  the  weather,  was 
good.  My  text  was  Luke  xiii.  24 :  "  Strive  to  enter  in  at  the 
strait  gate;  for  many,  I  say  unto  you,  will  seek  to  enter  iu, 
and  shall  not  be  able."  I  had  proceeded  some  distance  in  my 
discourse  with  usual  freedom,  when  a  large  mass  of  plaster,  more 
than  two  feet  square  and  several  inches  thick,  fell  from  the  lofty 
ceiling,  just  grazing  me  in  its  descent.  Had  it  fallen  on  my 
head,  it  would  probably  have  killed  me,  or  would  certainly  have 
stunned  and  seriously  wounded  me.  I  was  alarmed;  but  finding 
the  danger  over,  I  quickly  proceeded  to  make  extempore  re- 
marks, suggested  by  the  event,  on  the  perils  to  which  we  are 
constantly  exposed,  the  uncertainty  of  life  and  the  importance  of 
being  always  prepared  for  our  end. 

At  that  period  of  my  ministry  I  preached,  not  without  careful 
preparation  for  the  work,  but  without  taking  notes  into  the  pul- 
pit. On  this  occasion  I  had  read  my  text  shut  up  the  Bible 
and  had  no  memento  of  my  discourse.  When  I  had  finished  my 
unpremeditated  remarks,  I  essayed  to  re-commence  my  sermon ; 
but  all  recollection  of  the  text  and  subject  was  entirely  effaced 
from  my  mind.  I  stood  and  endeavored  to  recall  the  theme  of 
my  discourse.  My  efforts  were  vain,  and  my  situation  was  be- 
coming more  and  more  embarrassing.  I  turned  to  the  left, 
where  sat  my  friend  Deacon  Dunaway,  and  asked  him  if  he 
could  tell  me  what  I  was  preaching  about.  He  seemed  to  be 
paralyzed,  or  rather  petrified,  by  the  question.  He  sat  with  his 
eyes  and  mouth  stretched  wide  open,  without  moving  a  muscle. 
Pie  would  have  been  a  model  of  a  perplexed  mind  for  an  artist. 
Finding  no  help  from  that  source,  I  gradually  turned  to  the 
right.  Deacon  Norris,  a  careful  hearer,  and  noted  for  remem- 
bering the  texts  of  sermons,  seeing  that  I  was  directing  my  eyes 
toward  him,  cast  his  head  down  on  the  back  of  the  pew  before 
him, — as  much  as  to  say  "  Don't  ask  me  for  your  text."  So 
thoroughly  were  the  congregation  in  sympathy  with  me  in  the 
alarm  caused  by  the  falling  of  the  plaster,  and  the  remarks 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  145 

which  the  event  had  suggested,  that  probably  not  one  of  them 
remembered  my  text. 

Just  as  I  was  about  to  take  my  seat,  the  text  and  my  discourse 
flashed  on  my  mind,  and  I  commenced  my  remarks  precisely  at 
the  point  at  which  they  had  been  interrupted,  and  finished  my 
sermon  with  freedom  and  a  solemnity  perhaps  intensified  by  the 
danger  which  I  had  escaped. 

As  he  states  in  the  foregoing  paper,  Dr.  Jeter 
removed  to  the  Northern  Neck  in  the  autumn  of 
1827.  It  will  be  noticed  that  he  mentions  that  he 
was  "  installed "  as  the  pastor  of  his  new  charge. 
This  term  he  did  not  hesitate  to  use  in  describing 
those  public  services  which  were  held  upon  the 
occasion  of  a  pastor's  entrance  upon  a  new  field  of 
labor.  In  recent  years  the  use  of  this  word  by  Bap- 
tists has  been  strongly  denounced ;  but  Dr.  Jeter, 
who  was  an  adept  in  the  use  of  terms,  seems  to  have 
employed  it  without  the  faintest  suspicion  as  to  its 
propriety. 

His  residence  in  the  Northern  Neck  was  pre-emi- 
nently the  time  of  his  growth.  Dr.  J.  A.  Flippo, 
now  an  honored  physician  of  Caroline  County,  Vir- 
ginia, was  a  resident  of  the  Northern  Neck  at  the 
time  that  Dr.  Jeter  was  the  pastor  of  the  Morattico 
Church.  He  was  then  a  small  boy,  but  as  his  father 
was  a  devoted  member  of  the  church,  he  was  brought 
in  frequent  contact  with  the  pastor.  He  remembers 
him  as  an  eager  and  industrious  student.  It  seems 
that  he  was  then  particularly  ambitious  to  make 
himself  master  of  the  English  language.  He  studied 
the  grammar  with  intense  zeal,  and  was  greatly  in- 
terested in  the  origin,  history,  structure  and  meaning 
10 


146  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

of  words.  If  he  met  a  school-boy,  he  would  exam- 
ine his  books,  and  ask  him  questions,  in  the  hope  of 
adding  something  to  his  stock  of  knowledge  by  the 
exercise.  Dr.  Flippo  remembers  that  on  one  occa- 
sion he  heard  him  challenge  a  youth  to  parse  a  given 
sentence.  In  the  progress  of  his  effort,  the  boy 
described  some  verb  as  ur-regular.  Jeter  promptly 
arrested  him  with  the  question  :  "  Does  your  teacher 
call  that  ur-regular  or  ir-regular  ?"  It  was  impossi- 
ble for  him  to  hear  a  word  uttered,  without  beginning 
at  once  to  examine  it,  so  that  he  might  know  how  to 
pronounce  it,  what  it  meant,  and  when  it  could  be 
properly  used.  He  searched  books,  conferred  with 
educated  men,  and,  indeed,  seized  every  opportunity 
for  perfecting  his  knowledge  of  his  native  tongue. 

He  was  equally  pains-taking  in  the  matter  of 
spelling.  As  he  was  the  victor  in  the  spelling  match 
in  the  Bedford  school,  he  continued  to  advance  in 
the  art  of  spelling  even  to  the  end  of  his  life.  He 
would  not  write  a  word,  if  he  was  the  least  doubtful 
as  to  its  correct  spelling.  He  made  a  companion  of 
his  dictionary,  and  consulted  it  on  all  occasions. 
Dr.  Flippo  says  that  even  in  those  early  days  of 
Jeter's  life  he  was  distinguished  for  the  accuracy  of 
his  speech.  This  explains  his  critical  habit.  He 
gained  much  of  his  acquaintance  with  the  English 
language  by  conversation  with  others.  He  was  ever 
on  the  lookout  for  new  words  and  correct  methods 
of  speech.  This  he  did  for  his  own  improvement, 
but  he  was  equally  honest  in  his  wish  to  aid  others. 
If  they  spoke  incorrectly,  he  thought  it  was  according 
to  the  Golden  Rule  for  him  to  point  out  their  mis- 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  147 

take.     He  had  a  critical  ear,  and  could  not  easily 
permit  a  sin  against  correct  speech  to  go  unrebuked. 

It  is  known  that  Dr.  Jeter,  in  time,  became  in  an 
eminent  degree  a  master  of  English.  He  possessed 
a  large  vocabulary  of  the  choicest  words.  He  spoke 
and  wrote  with  marvellous  perspicuity,  felicity  and 
force.  His  style  was  hardly  inferior  in  its  beauty  or 
variety  to  that  of  Addison  or  Washington  Irving. 
This  ripened  acquaintanceship  with  language  was 
the  result  of  long  and  earnest  study.  He  gained  it 
by  his  own  efforts,  and  that,  too,  under  manifold 
difficulties. 

He  was  exceedingly  popular  as  a  preacher  in  the 
Northern  Neck.  While  he  lived  there  he  was  visited 
by  many  distinguished  ministers.  The  people  heard 
them  with  high  satisfaction,  but  it  was  the  verdict 
of  the  community  that  not  one  of  them  surpassed 
him  in  pulpit  ability.  He  was  then  vigorous  in 
health,  full  of  fiery  enthusiasm,  and  careful  in  the 
preparation  of  his  sermons.  He  won  completely  the 
hearts  of  his  people,  and  had  the  inspiration  of  a 
truly  phenomenal  success.  An  intelligent  and  spirit- 
ual-minded old  deacon,  after  hearing  Kerr,  Taylor 
and  other  famous  men,  said :  "  They  preach  well, 
but  they  can't  cope  with  Brother  Jeter." 

Dr.  Flippo  ventures  a  suggestion  which  probably 
helps  to  explain  the  rapidity  with  which  Jeter  grew 
in  those  days.  He  says  that  Straughan  and  Luns- 
ford  had  made  a  lasting  impression  upon  the  North- 
ern Neck  people.  They  accounted  them  men  of  un- 
surpassed power,  and  never  wearied  of  their  praises. 
When  young  Jeter  entered  the  field,  he  found  the 


148  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

names  of  these,  two  preachers  upon  almost  every  lip, 
and  always  spoken  in  terms  of  admiration.  He 
felt  the  delicacy  and  embarrassment  of  his  situation. 
He  could  not  brook  the  idea  of  being  brought  in 
unfavorable  contrast  with  his  predecessors.  He  was 
fired  with  a  spirit  of  emulation,  and  was  made  a 
better  preacher  by  reason  of  the  fact  that  he  stood 
as  the  successor  of  such  illustrious  men.  He  entered 
upon  life  with  the  simple  resolution,  always  "  to  do 
his  best,"  and  he  would  have  done  well  under  the 
most  adverse  conditions,  and  yet,  Dr.  Flippo  is 
probably  right  in  believing  that  the  high  encomiums 
which  were  constantly  pronounced  upon  Straughan 
and  Lunsford  in  his  hearing  became  fuel  to  the 
flame  of  his  youthful  ambition. 

A  friend  relates  a  pleasant  story  of  his  father,  who 
was  one  of  Jeter's  regular  hearers.  The  old  brother 
was  one  of  the  most  ardent  admirers  of  the  young 
preacher.  He  never  failed  to  hear  him,  and  seemed 
to  take  in  his  sermons  bodily.  It  was  his  custom, 
upon  returning  home,  to  regale  his  household  by 
repeating  the  sermons.  This  he  did  in  the  greatest 
detail.  He  would  read  the  text,  and  then  beginning 
with  the  exordium,  he  would  give  every  division, 
every  sub-division,  every  illustration,  every  eloquent 
flight,  and  re-produce  even  the  gestures  and  tones  of 
the  preacher.  This  was  a  remarkable  exploit  on  the 
part  of  the  man  himself,  and  a  fine  tribute  to  the 
simplicity  and  magnetism  of  the  pastor. 

The  Northern  Neck  people  always  claimed  Dr. 
Jeter  as  their  peculiar  property.  They  believed, 
and  not  without  reason,  that  they  made  him  what 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  149 

he  was.  Tt  was  a  high  day  when,  in  after-years,  he 
would  visit  them,  and  they  always  gave  him  a  great 
welcome.  But  some  of  them  openly  maintained  that 
he  never  preached  so  well  after  he  left  the  Neck. 
They  found  a  sort  of  grudging  pleasure  in  believing 
that  in  his  removal  to  Richmond,  a  first-class  preacher 
was  spoiled  in  order  to  make  a  metropolitan  pastor. 
Perhaps  they  were  not  altogether  wrong.  There  is 
a  freedom  and  independence  in  a  country  preacher's 
life  peculiarly  favorable  to  the  highest  forms  of  pul- 
pit power.  The  town  preacher  may  have  more 
polish  and  art,  and  work  more  rapidly,  but  his 
strains  and  burdens  are  not  friendly  to  the  attain- 
ment of  the  highest  eloquence. 

It  is  no  disparagement  to  Dr.  Jeter  to  say,  that 
for  no  small  part  of  that  almost  unprecedented  suc- 
cess which  attended  his  labors  in  the  Neck,  he  was 
indebted  to  the  ministers  who  aided  him  in  his  camp- 
meetings.  He  often  confessed  that  he  was  sadly 
deficient  in  that  "converting  power"  for  which 
Daniel  Witt  was  so  famous.  Not  that  he  lacked 
power  with  the  unconverted.  lie  was  so  logical, 
direct  and  impassioned  that  he  could  not  fail  to  be 
impressive.  Many  persons  were  brought  to  Christ 
under  his  preaching,  but  there  were  some  phases  of 
ministerial  work  in  which  he  was  more  effective  than 
in  converting  people.     He  was  not  a  great  revivalist. 

It  is  one  mark  of  his  unconscious  candor,  that  in 
his  "  Recollections  "  of  the  camp-meetings,  he  awards 
the  human  glory  of  their  success  to  others.  He 
rarely  ever  wrote  anything  more  refreshing  than  the 
following  accounts  of  his  camp-meetings  : 


150  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

NORTHERN    NECK   CAMP-MEETINGS. 

The  year  1831  is  memorable  for  the  number,  power  and  extent 
of  the  revivals  among  the  Baptist  Churches  in  Virginia.  During 
the  summer  I  aided  Rev.  James  B.Taylor  in  a  series  of  meetings 
held  in  the  Second  Baptist  Church,  Richmond,  the  fruits  of  which 
were  abundant  and  very  valuable.  I  was  desirous  that  Brethren 
Taylor  and  Kerr  should  assist  me  in  meetings  in  the  Northern 
Neck.  A  camp-meeting  having  been  recently  conducted  in  Hali- 
fax County,  I  think,  with  great  success,  they  proposed,  if  the 
brethren  in  the  Neck  would  prepare  for  holding  a  camp-meeting, 
to  attend  it.  On  my  return,  I  laid  the  proposal  before  the 
churches.  They  greatly  desired  a  visit  from  the  ministers — espe- 
cially from  Kerr,  of  whom  they  had  heard  much,  and  few  of  them 
had  seen  ;  but  against  a  camp-meeting  they  had  earnest  objections. 
It  had  long  been  an  annual  meeting  among  the  Methodists,  and 
conducted,  as  was  supposed,  with  many  extravagances.  Between 
the  desire  for  a  visit  from  Kerr  and  Taylor  and  the  aversion  to  a 
camp-meeting,  the  brethren  were  much  perplexed  and  divided. 
As  the  discussion  of  the  subject  added  to  the  confusion,  it  was 
agreed  that  the  question  should  be  decided  by  lot.  After  earnest 
prayer  for  divine  guidance,  the  lot  was  cast,  and  the  decision  was 
in  favor  of  the  meeting.     All  promptly  acquiesced  in  it! 

The  meeting  was  held  near  Lancaster  Court-House,  at  a  place 
called  Ball's  Woods,  where  the  Methodists  had  made  permanent 
arrangements  for  their  annual  camp-meeting.  At  the  appointed 
time  quite  a  fair  proportion  of  the  members  of  Morattico  and 
Wicomico  Churches  were  on  the  ground,  prepared  for  the  services. 
True  to  their  appointment,  Brethren  Kerr  and  Taylor,  accom- 
panied by  Rev.  Eli  Ball  and  other  ministers,  made  their  appear- 
ance. The  situation  was  so  singular,  and  so  much  at  variance 
with  the  views  and  tastes  which  had  long  prevailed  among  the 
brethren,  that  they  could  scarcely  look  one  another  in  the  face 
without  laughing.  There  had  been  much  prayer  for  the  success 
of  the  meeting.  A  few  were  hopeful,  many  were  in  doubt  and 
some  predicted  an  utter  failure.  The  first  service  was  held,  I 
think,  on  Friday  afternoon.  I  do  not  remember  who  preached; 
but  there  was  nothing  remarkable  in  the  sermon.  At  its  close, 
persons  were  invited  to  come  forward  for  prayer.     About  twenty 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  151 

inquirers  accepted  the  invitation,  most  of  them  heads  of  families, 
and  several  of  them  among  the  most  respectable  and  influential 
members  of  the  community.  Instantly  all  doubt  of  the  success 
of  the  meeting  vanished ;  and  from  that  moment  the  hearts, 
tongues  and  hands  of  all  the  brethren  and  sisters  were  united  to 
promote  its  interests.  I  have  never  seen  a  meeting  open  with 
such  cheering  prospects  of  success.  It  proceeded  with  increasing 
interest  until  Saturday  night. 

At  this  time  a  rain  commenced,  which,  for  its  abundance  and 
duration,  probably  exceeded  any  that  I  have  ever  known.  It  was 
a  young  flood.  The  roads  were  converted  into  streams,  the 
streams  were  swelled  into  rivers,  the  mills  were  swept  away,  and 
the  whole  country  was  covered  with  water.  The  encampment 
was  not  prepared  for  such  a  deluge.  The  cabins  leaked  like  rid- 
dles, and  the  water  ran  in  a  great  sluice  through  the  camp.  To 
keep  dry  was  impossible.  The  beds,  bed-clothing  and  raiment 
of  the  people  were  all  moistened  or  saturated  by  the  rain.  All 
religious  services  at  the  stand  were  suspended,  and  those  held  in 
the  tents  were  greatly  interrupted.  It  was  a  notable  fact  that 
among  the  persons  encamped  on  the  ground  were  some  in  delicate 
health,  who  could  not  bear  without  injury,  as  they  supposed,  the 
slightest  exposure  to  inclement  weather.  They  could  not  leave 
the  place,  and  were  compelled  to  fare  like  the  rest.  They  slept 
between  wet  sheets,  and  were  constantly  exposed  to  the  pitiless 
storm.  Their  death  was  judged  to  be  inevitable ;  but  not  one 
of  them,  so  far  as  I  could  learn,  suffered  any  damage  from  the 
exposure,  and  some  of  them  were  decidedly  benefited  by  it. 

One  remarkable  preservation  deserves  to  be  recorded.  There 
was  a  wide-spreading  oak  near  the  preachers'  stand,  around 
which,  when  the  weather  would  permit,  a  crowd  was  constantly 
assembled.  At  a  time  when  it  was  not  raining,  the  tree  was 
struck  and  barked  by  a  flash  of  lightning.  Not  an  individual 
was  hurt.  The  flash  occurred  at  the  dinner  hour,  when  all  were 
drawn  from  the  lounging-place.  At  another  time  a  dozen  or 
twenty  lives  might  have  been  destroyed. 

The  rain  continued  to  the  close  of  the  meeting,  but  its  results 
were  most  cheering.  About  forty-five  persons  professed  con- 
version, but  the  importance  of  the  meeting  was  to  be  estimated  by 


152  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

the  quality  rather  than  the  number  of  the  converts.  Scarcely 
any  of  them  were  children  or  youth,  more  than  twenty  were  heads 
of  families,  and  half  a  dozen  were  prominent  citizens.  They  re- 
sided in  different  portions  of  the  Neck,  and  exerted  a  mighty  and 
beneficent  influence  so  long  as  I  remained  there. 

One  case  is  entitled  to  special  notice.  John  Grinstead,  of 
Northumberland,  was,  in  several  respects,  a  remarkable  man. 
He  was  more  than  six  feet  high,  weighed  upwards  of  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  pounds,  and  had  the  strength  of  an  ox.  He  was  a 
good-natured,  genial,  pleasant  companion,  full  of  all  manner  of 
pranks  and  mischief.  In  comfortable  worldly  circumstances,  he 
devoted  himself  to  amusements,  and  was  a  ringleader  in  all  kinds 
of  sports  and  frolics.  He  was  not  intemperate,  but  far  from  being 
a  teetotaler.  He  was  not  specially  wicked,  but  his  influence  was 
decidedly  hostile  to  piety.  No  man  in  the  county  had  more  or 
warmer  friends  than  Grinstead.  He  had  recently  lost  a  pious 
daughter,  who,  on  her  dying  bed,  had  pleaded  with  him  to  be- 
come religious,  and  had  probably  secured  from  him  the  pledge 
that  he  would  attend  to  the  interests  of  his  soul.  He  appeared  at 
the  meeting  at  its  commencement,  though  residing  at  a  distance 
of  more  than  twenty  miles  from  it,  was  among  the  first  to  come 
forward  for  prayer,  and  was  joyfully  converted  before  the  close 
of  the  meeting.  The  news  of  his  conversion  spread  rapdly 
through  the  Neck,  and  an  earthquake  would  scarcely  have  pro- 
duced a  greater  sensation.  I  have  never  known  an  instance  of 
conversion  the  moral  effects  of  which  were  more  obvious,  wide- 
spread and  momentous  than  was  that  of  Grinstead.  Nobody 
doubted  his  sincerity.  No  feeble  power,  it  was  universally  con- 
ceded, could  have  wrought  so  great  a  change  in  one  so  devoted  to 
pleasure  and  dissipation  as  he  was.  As  an  army  becomes  de- 
moralized and  panic-stricken  when  a  great  general  falls  at  the 
commencement  of  a  battle,  so  the  devotees  of  pleasure  and  the 
sons  of  frolic  and  fun  were  terrified  and  lost  heart  when  Grin- 
stead, their  leader,  deserted  their  cause  and  enlisted  under  the 
opposing  banner.  In  a  short  time  I  baptized  him  in  Coan  River, 
where  there  was  much  water  for  the  purpose,  and  to  the  end 
of  his  life  he  continued  an  earnest,  upright  and  consistent 
Christian. 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  153 

This  meeting,  held  under  almost  unparalleled  disadvantages, 
slew  all  the  prejudices  against  camp-meetings  among  the  Baptists 
in  the  lower  end  of  the  Northern  Neck.  Those  who  had  most 
stoutly  opposed  it  became  its  warm  friends.  It  was  seen  that, 
conducted  under  favorable  circumstances,  and  with  proper  order 
and  prudence,  by  ministers  commanding  the  respect  of  the  com- 
munity and  wielding  an  influence  over  it,  it  was  eminently 
adapted  to  be  useful.  It  was  at  once  resolved  to  have  a  camp- 
meeting  the  next  year,  provide  ample  accommodation  for  families 
and  guests,  and  guard  against  the  discomforts  of  the  present 
meeting. 

This  camp-meeting  gave  a  strong  impulse  to  the  Baptist  cause 
in  the  Neck.  The  converts  were  about  equally  divided  between 
Morattico  and  Wicomico  Churches.  Their  baptism  at  different 
places  awakened  a  lively  interest  and  inspired  the  brethren  and 
sisters  with  fresh  zeal  in  the  Master's  cause.  It  was  the  com- 
mencement of  a  new  era  among  the  Baptists  of  that  region,  and 
led  to  the  adoption  of  more  extended  plans  for  the  promotion  of 
their  cause 

One  event  must  not  be  overlooked.  At  this  meeting,  Henri- 
etta, daughter  of  the  late  Rev.  Addison  Hall,  afterwards  Mrs. 
Shuck,  the  first  American  female  missionary  to  China,  was  con- 
verted. She  had  just  returned  from  a  school  in  Fredericksburg 
to  pass  her  vacation  at  home.  She  was  among  the  first  converts 
at  the  meeting.  Her  convictions  of  sin  were  pungent,  her  feel- 
ings intense,  and  her  deliverance  joyful.  She  ascribed  her  first 
permanent  religious  impressions  to  a  question  propounded  to  her 
by  her  pious  teacher,  Mrs.  Little:  "Where  will  you  be  a  hun- 
dred years  hence  ? "  It  awakened  in  her  bosom  serious  medita- 
tion, a  sense  of  accountability  to  God,  and  a  conviction  of  her 
guilt  and  danger,  which,  by  the  divine  blessing,  led  her  to  repent- 
ance and  prepared  her  for  a  happy  reception  of  the  gospel.  She 
commenced  on  the  camp-ground,  among  her  young  associates,  the 
evangelical  work  which,  with  constantly  increasing  fervor  and 
fidelity  she  continued  to  the  close  of  her  eventful  life.  She  was 
baptized  at  Waverly,  the  family  residence  in  Lancaster,  in  the 
presence  of  a  deeply  impressed  audience.  In  her  last  letter,  writ- 
ten from  China  a  few  hours  before  her  death,  she  referred  with 


154  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

pleasure  to  this  solemn  act  of  her  life:  "'Twas  you,  my  dear 
Brother  Jeter,  who  led  me  into  the  liquid  grave.  Oh !  how  well 
I  remember  that  day,  that  precious  day,  and  the  dear  friends 
(some,  yea,  many  of  them  now  departed — 1844)  who  accompanied 
me  to  the  water's  edge." 

We  have  already  stated  that  the  brethren  resolved  at  the  first 
camp-meetiug  to  hold  a  second.  The  ground  selected  for  it 
was  nearly  equidistant  from  the  court-houses  of  Lancaster  and 
Northumberland,  and  not  far  from  the  line  dividing  them.  It 
was  in  a  primeval  forest,  and  on  a  ridge,  at  the  foot  of  which 
there  was  a  bold  and  perennial  spring.  Neither  expense  nor 
pains  were  spared  in  preparing  the  encampment.  It  was  a 
square.  On  one  side  of  it  were  the  preacher's  tent  and  the  stand 
for  preaching.  In  front  of  the  stand  were  arranged  seats  for  the 
accommodation  of  a  large  congregation.  Around  the  square 
were  erected  substantial,  water-proof  cabins,  suited  to  the  warm 
summer  weather.  Quite  a  large  assembly  could  find  comforta- 
ble lodgings  on  the  ground. 

The  meeting  was  anticipated  with  great  hopefulness  and  no 
little  anxiety.  Kerr,  Taylor  and  many  other  ministers  were 
present  at  it.  Of  its  services  and  progress  I  remember  but  little. 
One  scene,  however,  I  distinctly  recollect.  The  services  had 
been  going  on  some  time,  and  the  prospects  were  not  very  bright. 
The  morning  prayer-meeting  was  addressed  by  Kerr.  He  was 
in  his  best  mood,  and  delivered  an  overwhelming  exhortation. 
He  urged  the  brethren  to  retire  to  the  surrounding  forest,  and 
make  private  and  importunate  prayer  for  the  conversion  of  their 
friends.  At  the  close  of  the  service,  the  brethren,  greatly  affected 
and  moved  by  the  appeal,  dispersed  in  every  direction,  singly 
and  in  small  companies,  to  present  their  prayers  to  God.  For 
hundreds  of  yards  around  the  encampment,  the  forest  resounded 
with  the  low,  solemn  voice  of  supplication.  Persons  coming  to 
the  meeting,  retiring  from  it  or  going  into  the  forest  for  any  pur- 
pose, could  not  avoid  the  sound  of  prayer.  A  solemn  and  ear- 
nest tone  of  piety  was  imparted  to  the  meeting,  and  it  proceeded 
with  unabated  interest  and  power  to  its  close. 

At  the  termination  of  the  meeting,  all  who  had  found  peace  in 
believing  since  its  commencement  were  requested  to  come  for- 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  155 

ward  and  occupy  appropriated  seats.  About  one  hundred  and 
forty  promptly  presented  themselves ;  of  these,  ninety  were 
males,  most  of  them  of  mature  age,  many  of  them  heads  of 
families,  and  several  of- them  persons  of  prominence  and  influ- 
ence in  the  community.  Most  of  these,  in  a  few  weeks,  were 
baptized,  and  became  members  of  the  contiguous  churches,  add- 
ing much  to  their  strength  and  efficiency,  as  well  as  to  their 
numbers.  Nor  do  these  statements  indicate  the  full  results  of 
the  meeting.  The  converts  who  came  forward  on  the  invitation 
were  not  all  the  trophies  of  grace  secured  by  the  services.  Some 
of  them  had  left  before  the  close ;  others,  cherishing  hope,  lacked 
confidence  to  present  themselves  as  subjects  of  grace,  and  not  a 
few  had  received  impressions  which  ripened,  in  after-times,  into 
piety.  The  close  of  the  meeting  was  a  most  inspiring  scene,  and 
indicated  as  large  a  measure  of  success  as  I  have  ever  known  to 
follow  a  week's  religious  services. 

While  I  continued  in  the  Northern  Neck,  a  meeting  was  held 
every  year  on  the  camp-ground  described  above,  with  varying, 
but  always  with  gratifying  success.  The  meeting  of  1834  de- 
serves special  attention.  In  that  year  the  Congregational  Union 
of  England  and  Wales  sent  Drs.  Andrew  Reed  and  James 
Matheson  to  visit  their  brethren  in  this  country.  Dr.  Reed,  to 
extend  his  inquiries  and  make  observations  on  the  religious  con- 
dition of  the  country,  attended  the  Baptist  camp-meeting  of  the 
Northern  Neck.  He  was  one  of  the  most  eloquent  and  popular 
of  the  dissenting  London  pastors.  He  was  in  the  prime  of  life, 
of  medium  height,  rather  corpulent,  an  unmistakable  English- 
man, but  fairer  and  of  more  delicate  appearance  than  his  coun- 
trymen usually  are.  His  dress,  manners  and  conversation  gave 
proof  of  his  intelligence  and  refinement.  His  arrival  awakened 
a  lively  interest  in  the  congregation,  and  in  the  surrounding 
country.  He  was  invited  to  preach,  and  somewhat  reluctantly 
consented  to  do  so ;  for  he  was  fatigued  from  travelling,  and  had 
been  much  broken  of  his  rest. 

A  large  congregation  was  assembled  to  hear  him.  The  weather 
was  propitious.  Everything  was  favorable  to  a  pleasant  service. 
Earnest  prayer  had  been  offered  for  the  divine  blessing  on  it ; 
deep  solemnity  pervaded  the  audience,  and  all  were  intent  to 


156  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

hear  a  London  preacher.  At  eleven  o'clock  a.  m.  the  doctor 
arose  in  the  stand,  and  took  for  his  text  Acts  iii.  19:  "When 
the  times  of  refreshing  shall  come  from  the  presence  of  the 
Lord."  Of  the  matter  of  the  sermon  I  remember  but  little ;  but 
of  its  manner  and  its  effect  I  have  a  vivid  recollection.  It  was 
delivered  without  vociferation,  but  in  a  clear,  well-sustained 
voice,  growing  more  earnest  and  tender  from  the  beginning  to 
the  end.  It  was  not  profound,  not  sublime,  not  overpowering ; 
but  it  was  pertinent,  plain,  eloquent,  evangelical,  impressive.  I 
have  heard  greater  sermons,  but  rarely  a  more  faultless  and  fas- 
cinating one.  It  was  heard  throughout  the  large  assembly  with 
almost  breathless  attention,  wTith  a  deepening  interest  and  few 
tears,  but  with  a  strong  undercurrent  of  feeling.  At  the  close  of 
the  sermon  a  most  remarkable  scene  occurred.  I  will  allow 
the  doctor  to  describe  it,  as  he  drew  the  picture,  when  its  im- 
pression was  fresh  upon  his  mind,  in  his  report  to  the  body 
which  had  sent  him  to  this  country : 

"  There  were  not  less  than  one  thousand  five  hundred  persons 
assembled.  Mr.  Taylor  offered  fervent  and  suitable  prayer.  It 
remained  for  me  to  preach.  I  can  only  say  that  I  did  so  with 
earnestness  and  freedom.  I  soon  felt  that  I  had  the  attention 
and  confidence  of  the  congregation,  and  this  gave  me  confidence. 
I  took  care,  in  passing,  as  my  subject  allowed,  to  withdraw  my 
attention  from  anything  noisy  and  exclamatory,  and  there  was, 
throughout  the  discourse,  nothing  of  the  kind ;  but  there  was  a 
growing  attention  and  stillness  over  the  people.  The  closing 
statements  and  appeals  were  evidently  falling  on  the  conscience 
and  heart  with  advancing  power.  The  people  generally  leaned 
forward  to  catch  what  was  said.  Many  rose  from  their  seats, 
and  many,  stirred  with  grief,  sunk  down  as  if  to  hide  themselves 
from  observation ;  but  all  was  perfectly  still.  Silently  the  tear 
fell,  and  silently  the  sinner  shuddered.  I  ceased.  Nobody 
moved.  I  looked  around  to  the  ministers  for  some  one  to  give 
out  a  hymn.  No  one  looked  at  me;  no  one  moved.  Every 
moment  the  silence,  the  stillness,  became  more  solemn  and  over- 
powering. Now,  here  and  there,  might  be  heard  suppressed 
sobbing  arising  on  the  silence.  But  it  could  be  suppressed  no 
longer ;  the  fountains  of  feeling  were  burst  open,  and  one  uni- 


THE  NOKTHERN  NECK.  157 

versal  wail  sprung  from  the  people  and  ministers,  while  the 
whole  mass  sank  down  on  their  knees,  as  if  imploring  some  one 
to  pray.  I  stood  resting  on  the  desk,  overwhelmed  like  the  peo- 
ple. The  presiding  pastor  arose,  and,  throwing  his  arms  around 
my  neck,  exclaimed :  '  Pray,  brother,  pray !  I  fear  many  of 
my  charge  will  be  found  at  the  left  hand  of  the  Judge !  Oh, 
pray,  brother !  pray  for  us !'  And  then  he  cast  himself  on  the 
floor  with  his  brethren  to  join  in  the  prayer.  But  I  could  not 
pray !  I  must  have  been  more  or  less  than  man  to  have  uttered 
prayer  at  that  moment!  Nor  was  it  necessary.  All  in  that 
hour  were  intercessors  with  God,  with  tears  and  cries  and  groans 
unutterable.  So  soon  as  I  could  command  my  state  of  feeling, 
I  tried  to  offer  prayer.  My  broken  voice  rose  gradually  on  the 
troubled  cries  of  the  people,  and  gradually  they  subsided,  so 
that  they  could  hear  and  concur  in  the  common  supplications. 
It  ceased,  and  the  people  rose.  .  .  . 

"  Thus  closed  the  most  remarkable  service  that  I  have  ever 
witnessed.  It  has  been  my  privilege  to  see  more  of  the  solemn 
and  powerful  effect  of  divine  truth  on  large  bodies  of  people  than 
many;  but  I  never  saw  anything  equal  to  this, — so  deep,  so 
overpowering,  so  universal." — Christian  Library,  640. 

The  above  is  a  very  fair  account  of  the  scene,  except  that,  I 
think,  the  request  for  prayer  by  the  pastor  preceded  the  general 
outburst  of  feeling  in  the  congregation.  It  was  a  very  remark- 
able scene.  I  have  observed  deeper  and  more  abiding  impres- 
sions made  on  large  audiences  by  the  preaching  of  the  gospel ; 
but  I  have  never  seen  so  sudden  and  general  and  overwhelming 
an  effect  produced  on  a  great  assembly  as  occurred  at  the  close 
of  the  doctor's  sermon.  Its  results  it  was  difficult  to  estimate. 
The  emotions  produced  were  generally  as  transient  as  they  were 
intense.  The  meeting  was  less  successful  than  were  those  of 
previous  years ;  but  still  its  fruits  called  for  great  gratitude  to 
the  Giver  of  all  good.  From  fifty  to  seventy  persons  professed 
to  find  salvation  through  faith  in  Christ. 

It  may  be  proper  for  me  to  present  my  own  views,  the  result 
of  no  inconsiderable  experience,  on  the  expediency  of  holding 
camp-meetings.  They  may  be  adopted  widely  or  unwisely,  ac- 
cording to  circumstances.     In  a  sparsely-settled  country,  under 


158  EIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

good  religious  influence,  where  the  grounds  and  its  surroundings 
are  controlled  by  the  friends  of  good  order,  where  comfortable 
arrangements  are  made  for  the  entertainment  of  an  assembly, 
where  public  sentiment  is  sufficiently  strong  for  the  suppression 
of  disorder,  and  where  the  ministers  have  gifts  and  influence  for 
properly  conducting  such  a  meeting,  it  may,  by  God's  blessing, 
be  eminently  useful.  Some  of  the  best,  if  not  the  very  best, 
meetings  which  I  have  attended  were  camp-meetings.  There  is, 
however,  great  danger,  certainly  in  Virginia,  that  they  will  be 
perverted  to  evil.  There  is  a  strong  tendency  to  make  them 
occasions  of  social  pleasure,  festivity,  and  even  of  frivolity,  dissi- 
pation and  vice.  Satan  usually  attends  camp-meetings,  and 
musters  and  trains  his  servants  for  mischief;  and  much  care, 
discretion  and  firmness  of  purpose  is  needed  to  restrain  the  ten- 
dencies to  evil. 

Dr.  Jeter  mentions  that  his  proposition  to  hold  a 
camp-meeting  in  the  Northern  Neck  excited  opposi- 
tion, and  that  after  some  discussion  it  was  decided  to 
settle  the  question  by  lot.  Dr.  William  H.  Kirk,  one 
of  the  greatest  friends  that  Dr.  Jeter  ever  had,  his 
beloved  son  in  the  gospel,  and  for  many  years  a  use- 
ful Baptist  minister,  gave  me  a  peculiarly  thrilling 
account  of  that  contest  between  Jeter  and  several  of 
his  leading  brethren.  Jeter  had  then  been  in  the 
Northern  Neck  for  several  years,  and  had  become 
very  influential.  He  was  not  an  obstinate  man,  for 
he  was  always  candid  and  conservative.  But  when 
he  believed  a  thing,  he  believed  it  thoroughly,  and  it 
was  not  easy  to  move  him.  He  was  fearless  and  de- 
termined. He  was  not  afraid  to  fight,  provided  there 
was  something  to  fight  for. 

In  1831  he  attended  the  General  Association  in 
Petersburg,  Virginia.  There  he  met  with  John  Kerr 
and  James  B.  Taylor,  who  gave  him  a  stirring  account 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  159 

of  a  camp-meeting  which  they  attended  the  previous 
summer  in  Halifax  County.  Instantly  he  decided  to 
attempt  a  similar  meeting  in  his  field,  and  invited 
those  brethren  to  assist  him.  This  they  readily  con- 
sented to  do.  It  never  occurred  to  him  that  his 
people  might  have  some  opinions  of  their  own  on  the 
subject  of  camp-meetings.  He  tarried  in  Richmond 
to  aid  Brother  Taylor  in  a  meeting  at  the  Second 
Baptist  Church,  and  authorized  Dr.  Kirk,  who  had 
accompanied  him  to  Petersburg,  to  return  to  the 
Northern  Neck  and  inform  his  people  of  the  proposed 
meeting.  In  a  few  weeks  he  returned  to  his  home, 
jubilant  in  spirit,  in  view  of  the  camp-meeting  soon 
to  be  held.  Upon  his  arrival  he  was  greatly  startled 
by  the  news  that  some  of  his  brethren  were  violently 
opposed  to  the  meeting.  He  was  brought  to  a  pain- 
ful pause.  He  knew  not  what  to  do,  and  took  time 
for  reflection.  He  found  himself  confronted  by 
some  of  his  best  personal  friends,  whom  he  could  not 
afford  to  offend.  At  length  he  resolved  that  he 
would  fight  the  battle  for  the  meeting.  The  church 
was  called  together  to  settle  the  question.  Each  side 
was  eager  for  the  fray,  and  yet  uneasy  as  to  the 
issue.  The  discussion  was  earnest  and  prolonged, 
and  threatened  to  end  in  bad  blood. 

At  last  a  motion  was  carried  in  favor  of  settling 
the  question  by  lot.  The  brethren  retired  in  a  body 
from  the  church,  and  went  into  a  grove,  where  earn- 
est prayer  was  offered  for  divine  direction.  Two 
slips  of  paper  were  prepared,  on  one  of  which  was 
written  "  Meeting,"  and  on  the  other  "  No  Meeting," 
and  these  were  placed  in  a  hat.     For  some  reason  a 


160  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

blind  old  brother  (named  Oliver,  I  believe)  was 
chosen  to  do  the  drawing.  He  thrust  in  his  hand 
and  drew  out  one  of  the  papers,  while  the  breathless 
company  awaited  the  result.  The  lot  favored  the 
pastor,  and  the  meeting  was  agreed  upon.  The  de- 
cision was  accepted  in  good  faith,  and  a  committee 
was  appointed  to  arrange  for  the  meeting. 

There  was  one  brother  whose  surrender  was  not 
quite  unconditional.  The  two  most  formidable  an- 
tagonists of  the  meeting  had  been  Deacon  Rawley 
Dunnaway  and  Col.  Addison  Hall.  The  latter  was 
a  prominent  citizen  and  a  true  Christian  gentleman, 
but  he  was  then  comparatively  young,  self-willed 
and  sorely  chafed  by  the  result  of  the  lot.  He  could 
not  quite  acquiesce,  and  perhaps  was  not  so  anxious 
for  the  meeting  to  succeed  as  he  ought  to  have  been. 
In  the  course  of  the  preparations  there  came  a  hitch 
which  unsettled  things  and  revived  his  hope  that  the 
whole  scheme  might  miscarry.  He  approached  Dea- 
con Dunnaway  and  said  :  "  Brother  Dunnaway,  we 
can  break  up  this  meeting  now,  if  we  will  act  to- 
gether." The  old  man  shook  his  head  and  replied, 
with  great  solemnity  :  "  Don't  talk  to  me  about  that, 
Col.  Hall ;  I  was  as  much  opposed  to  the  meeting  as 
I  could  be,  but  we  left  it  to  the  Lord,  and  He  went 
against  us,  and  now  I  am  in  for  the  meeting." 

That  settled  it.  In  due  time  the  preachers  came 
and  the  meeting  was  held.  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
was  present  in  a  wonderful  measure,  and  many  were 
brought  to  Christ.  There  was  a  thrilling  and  memor- 
able episode  in  the  beginning  of  the  meeting.  At 
the  first  service  there  were  about  twenty  conversions, 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  161 

and  the  first  of  these  was  a  daughter  of  Col.  Hall, 
who  afterwards  became  a  missionary  to  China.  From 
that  day  Brother  Hall  was  always  an  ardent  cham- 
pion of  camp-meetings. 

While  Jeter  withstood  the  first  appeal  of  the 
Northern  Neck  people  to  become  their  pastor,  he  at 
least  met  one  during  his  first  visit  to  that  country 
whose  charms  he  could  not  resist.  That  was  Miss 
Margaret  P.  Waddy,  of  Northumberland  County, 
Va.,  to  whom  he  was  married  October  5th,  1826. 
At  that  time  he  was  residing  in  Campbell,  and  when 
he  went  to  claim  his  bride,  he  took  with  him  his  be- 
loved Daniel  Witt,  by  whom  his  first  nuptial  vows 
were  sealed.  Alas !  his  new  joy  speedily  perished. 
The  lady  of  his  choice  was  of  slender  frame  and  frail 
constitution,  and  in  a  few  months  she  fell  suddenly 
sick,  and  soon  after  sank  to  her  grave. 

Concerning  this  first  partner  of  his  life,  I  have 
been  able  to  gain  very  little  information.  She  was 
the  bride  of  his  youth  and  linked  her  fate  with  his  in 
the  days  of  his  obscurity,  when  he  was  yet  homeless 
and  uncrowned.  Her  death  overwhelmed  him  with 
sorrow,  and  he  lamented  her  loss  with  great  bitter- 
ness of  soul.  To  the  end  of  his  life  he  tenderly 
cherished  her  memory.  His  testimony  was  that  she 
was  a  woman  of  marked  gifts  and  superior  intelli- 
gence. 

At  the  time  of  his  removal  to  the  Northern 
Neck,  during  the  later  months  of  1827,  he  was  a 
widower.  It  is  not  surprising  that  he  did  not  remain 
in  that  condition  long.  In  his  tastes  and  affections 
he  was  thoroughly  domestic.  While  aspiring,  busy 
11 


162  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

and  wedded  to  public  life,  he  yearned  for  the  com- 
forts and  sympathies  of  home.  A  woman's  love  was 
the  necessary  complement  of  his  being,  and  without 
it  his  life  was  one-sided  and  intolerable.  It  was  not 
the  lack  of  heart,  but  rather  the  warmth  and  purity 
of  his  heart,  which  turned  his  thoughts  again  to 
matrimony. 

This  time  the  lady  who  gained  his  affections  was 
Miss  Sarah  Ann  Gaskins.  Her  father  belonged  to  a 
family  of  high  rank  whose  name  had  formerly  been 
Gaskoins.  There  is  a  tradition  that  there  was 
another  family  in  the  community  of  the  same  name, 
but  of  questionable  character.  This  was  an  occasion 
of  chagrin  and  grief  to  the  genuine  Gaskoins  stock. 

To  escape  the  suspicion  of  being  in  any  degree 
akin  to  the  other  and  less  reputable  family,  they 
changed  their  name  to  that  of  Gaskins.  The  sequel 
was  a  disappointment.  It  was  the  finishing  stroke 
to  their  humiliation  when  they  ascertained  soon 
afterwards  that  the  other  Gaskoins  had  also  bloomed 
out  into  Gaskins. 

The  second  Mrs.  Jeter  was  the  daughter  of  Mr. 
Eichard  Gaskins,  who  was  a  devoted  member  of  the 
Morattico  Church.  He  was  a  man  of  melancholy 
temperament,  and  so  distressingly  dismal  in  his  man- 
ners that  his  brethren  nicknamed  him  "  Brother 
Hyppo."  Soon  after  Brother  Jeter  went  to  that  coun- 
try to  live,  he  and  this  brother  were  actors  in  a  very 
ludicrous  occurrence.  After  his  sermon  on  Sunday 
morning,  Jeter  called  on  Brother  Flippo  to  lead  in 
prayer,  but  that  was  a  thing  which  up  to  that  time 
Brother  Flippo  had  not  learned  to  do.     In  his  terror 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  163 

he  turned  about  to  find  some  brother  to  act  as  his 
substitute,  and  hit  upon  Brother  Gaskins.  As  soon 
as  the  prayer  commenced,  the  people,  who  had  never 
heard  Brother  Flippo  pray,  were  struck  with  the 
resemblance  between  his  voice  and  that  of  Brother 
Gaskins.  In  their  surprise  and  curiosity  they  raised 
their  heads  to  see  how  matters  were  going.  They 
found  that  it  was  not  Flippo,  but  Gaskins  who  was 
making  the  prayer.  And  then  it  broke  suddenly 
upon  them  that  Brother  Jeter  had  forgotten  himself 
to  the  extent  of  calling  Brother  Gaskins  by  the  name 
of  "Hyppo."  Such  an  odd  conjuncture  of  surprises 
at  a  moment  so  solemn  upset  the  risibles  of  the  con- 
gregation and  played  havoc  with  the  proprieties  of 
the  occasion. 

Miss  Sarah  Gaskins  is  reported  to  have  been  of 
medium  size  and  attractive  person.  She  was  thor- 
oughly amiable  in  her  temper  and  had  enjoyed 
unusual  educational  advantages.  She  had,  however, 
two  characteristics  which  put  her  at  great  disadvan- 
tage. For  one  thing,  she  was  shy,  sensitive  and 
shrinking.  While  a  loyal  and  affectionate  wife  and 
always  anxious  to  please  her  husband,  she  dreaded 
society.  She  had  little  confidence  in  herself,  and 
was  always  .uneasy  lest  she  should  speak  unadvis- 
edly or  do  some  unseemly  thing.  She  trembled  at 
the  coming  of  company,  for  fear  something  in  the 
domestic  machinery  might  not  go  well.  On  this 
account  her  ever  hospitable  husband  often  denied 
himself  the  pleasure  of  entertaining  his  brethren. 
As  a  fact,  he  was  not  more  hospitable  than  she. 
The  difference  was  that  he  made  companions  of  his 


164  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

guests,  while  she  became  their  servant,  and  always 
served  with  fear. 

She  was  also  remarkable  for  her  habitual  reticence 
— a  trait  for  which  some  excellent  women  have  never 
been  eminent.  Her  habit  of  taciturnity  was  so  con- 
firmed and  stubborn  that  it  became  a  matter  of  gen- 
eral comment.  Her  husband  took  it  in  good  part, 
though  sometimes  he  made  it  a  point  for  his  raillery 
and  amusement.  There  is  a  story  that  this  couple 
were  once  making  an  extensive  journey  in  a  two- 
wheeled  gig.  They  were  traveling  alone,  and  Brother 
Jeter,  always  observant  and  quick  of  speech,  sought 
to  engage  her  in  conversation.  She  rewarded  him 
only  with  monosyllabic  responses.  Finally  he  con- 
cluded that  he  too  would  inaugurate  a  policy  of 
silence,  resolving  not  to  open  his  lips  until  she  spoke. 
He  said  afterwards  that  they  travelled  for  twenty 
miles  without  the  utterance  of  a  word  by  either  party. 
Her  silence  did  not  spring  from  moroseness  or  a  lack 
of  intelligence,  for  she  was  really  an  amiable  and  in- 
telligent woman.  Dr.  Jeter  always  spoke  of  her  as 
a  model  of  devoutness  and  generosity.  For  personal 
display  she  cared  nothing,  but  she  found  her  happi- 
ness in  helping  others.  While  usually  reticent  almost 
to  a  painful  extent,  she  was  never  afraid  to  talk  to 
others  on  the  subject  of  religion.  I  met  recently  an 
aged  Baptist  lady  who  told  me  that  she  was  led  to 
Christ  by  Mrs.  Jeter's  influence,  and  that  she  once 
heard  her  remark  that  she  had  sometimes  been  criti- 
cised for  talking  so  little,  but  that  she,  at  least,  had 
the  humble  satisfaction  of  never  having  spoken  a 
word  which  afterwards  caused  her  shame  or  sorrow. 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  165 

Dr.  Jeter's  marriage  with  this  lady  occurred  on  the 
9th  of  December,  1828.  They  lived  together  for 
nearly  twenty  years,  and  he  ever  found  in  her  a 
gentle  helpmeet  and  a  faithful  counsellor.  As  a  fruit 
of  their  union  there  was  one  child,  a  son,  that  lived 
only  a  few  weeks.  That  was  the  only  child,  I  believe, 
ever  born  unto  Dr.  Jeter,  and  by  its  death  he  was 
made  childless  for  life.  This  to  him  was  a  deep  and 
oft-confessed  sorrow,  for  he  was  a  devoted  lover  of 
children.  He  said  once  to  a  lady,  on  congratulating 
her  on  the  birth  of  a  daughter,  that  he  wished  that 
he  had  a  hundred  girls. 

The  time  spent  in  the  Northern  Neck  was  well 
used.  He  often  went  out  to  aid  neighboring  pastors 
in  their  meetings,  and  his  services  were  in  constant 
request. 

He  always  took  the  liveliest  interest  in  denomina- 
tional gatherings.  He  was  fond  of  attending  the  dis- 
trict associations,  and  never  failed  to  be  present  at 
the  meetings  of  the  General  Association.  From  his 
youth  he  was  passionately  fond  of  travel,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  if  he  had  had  an  opportunity  of  circumnavi- 
gating the  globe,  he  would  have  accepted  it  on  a  single 
day's  notice. 

In  1829  he  paid  his  first  visit  to  Baltimore,  and  in 
the  following  extracts  from  his  "  Recollections "  he 
gives  us  a  few  of  his  experiences  during  that  visit. 
He  also  mentions  the  fact  that  he  received  a  call  to 
become  pastor  in  Baltimore,  which  he  declined  under 
circumstances  somewhat  peculiar. 


166         LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 
A  VOYAGE  TO  BALTIMORE. 

During  my  residence  in  the  Northern  Neck,  and  in  the  year 
1829,  I  made  a  trip  to  the  Monumental  City.  Then  no  steamer 
plied  between  that  place  and  the  Neck.  The  only  communication 
between  them  was  by  sailing  craft.  I  arranged  to  make  the 
voyage  in  a  small  schooner,  engaged  in  the  Baltimore  trade.  I 
had  long  desired  to  be  in  a  storm  on  the  water,  strong  enough  to 
give  me  a  conception  of  its  grandeur,  without  arousing  my  fears. 
I  got  aboard  the  craft  in  the  evening,  and,  not  having  fully  re- 
covered from  an  attack  of  malarial  fever,  went  into  the  cabin, 
took  my  berth  and  slept  soundly  until  the  next  morning.  To 
my  surprise,  I  learned  that,  in  crossing  the  mouth  of  the  Poto- 
mac, we  had  been  in  a  severe  storm,  and  that  the  vessel  had 
been  terribly  rocked,  if  not  in  danger  of  being  capsized.  The 
skipper,  who  had  been  long  engaged  in  navigating  the  Chesapeake 
Bay,  stated  that  he  had  never  before  encountered  so  rough  a 
storm.  Quite  likely  I  enjoyed  my  sleep  more  than  I  should  have 
enjoyed  the  howling  of  the  wind  and  the  dashing  of  the  waves. 

In  two  or  three  days'  run  we  reached  the  city  of  Baltimore. 
To  me  it  seemed  a  great  city,  containing  about  ninety  thousand 
inhabitants.  The  few  days  I  spent  there  were  employed  in  tra- 
versing its  streets,  surveying  its  fine  buildings  and  examining  its 
curiosities.  I  had  often  expressed  the  wish  that  I  could  meet 
myself,  without  knowing  who  I  was,  that  I  might  form  an 
impartial  opinion  of  my  appearance.  Strangely  enough,  on 
this  visit,  my  desire  was  gratified.  I  went  to  Peale's  Museum. 
While  I  was  employed  in  examining  the  curiosities  in  a  large 
room,  I  observed  a  tall,  gawky-looking  man  who  was  engaged 
with  equal  interest  in  inspecting  objects  in  an  adjoining  room.  I 
eyed  him  occasionally,  but  not  very  minutely.  Having  finished 
my  examination  in  the  room  where  I  was,  I  concluded  that  I 
would  pass  into  the  apartment  where  the  stranger  seemed  to  be 
intensely  occupied.  He  had  closed  his  inspection  of  the  curios- 
ities in  his  room  and  appeared  to  be  making  his  way  into  mine. 
We  met  face  to  face,  and  it  was  some  time  before  I  could  pei- 
ceive  that  the  stranger  was  my  very  self  reflected  from  a  mirror 
that  had  been  fitted  in  the  wall,  and  surrounded  by  a  frame  ap- 
pearing like  a  door. 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  167 

I  spent  a  Sunday  in  Baltimore.  My  first  aim  was  to  hear  the 
Rev.  John  Finlay  preach.  He  was  then  pastor  of  the  First 
Baptist  Church,  meeting  in  the  round  house,  on  Sharp  Street,  so 
long  occupied  by  Dr.  J.  W.  M.  Williams.  Mr.  Finlay  had  the 
reputation  of  being  a  very  eloquent  preacher.  Many  considered 
him  the  equal  of  Summerfield,  who  had  recently  died,  but  who, 
while  living,  was  a  star  in  the  Methodist  pulpit  of  Baltimore.  I 
asked  Luther  Rice  what  sort  of  preacher  Mr.  Finlay  was.  He 
replied  that  he  was  such  a  preacher  as  a  Scotchman  would  make. 
I  inquired  what  sort  of  a  preacher  a  Scotchman  would  make. 
And  he  answered  that  he  would  make  a  Scotch  preacher.  As  his 
answers  were  equivocal,  he  illustrated  them  by  a  Western  story. 
A  witness  was  called  to  testify  in  a  case  of  assault  and  battery. 
The  accused  had  struck  his  opponent  with  a  stone.  The  witness 
was  asked  the  size  of  the  stone,  and  replied  that  it  was  a  sizeable 
stone.  The  attorney  requested  him  to  state  how  big  it  was,  and 
he  answered  that  it  was  of  certain  bigness.  The  court,  inter- 
posing, required  him  to  compare  it  with  something  whose  size 
was  known,  and  he  said  it  was  the  size  of  a  piece  of  chalk.  The 
explanation  was  quite  as  equivocal  as  the  original  answers.  For 
some  reason  he  declined  to  give  me  his  opinion  of  the  preaching 
abilities  of  Elder  Finlay.  He  was  a  Scotchman,  and  some  of 
the  finest  preachers  of  the  present  century  have  been  Scotchmen. 
I  heard  him  in  his  own  pulpit  on  Sunday  morning.  His  text 
was  Eph.  iv.  22-24:  "That  ye  put  off  concerning  the  former 
conversation  the  old  man,  which  is  corrupt  according  to  the  de- 
ceitful lusts ;  and  be  renewed  in  the  spirit  of  your  mind,"  etc. 
The  congregation  was  not  large,  and  the  circumstances  were  not 
exciting;  but  I  can  well  judge,  from  the  clearness,  fluency  and 
correctness  of  his  style,  that,  under  favorable  conditions,  he 
preached  with,  eloquence  and  power.  This  discourse,  however, 
was  graceful  rather  than  profound,  and  pleasing  rather  than  im- 
pressive. 

At  night  I  went  to  hear  Elder  E.  J.  Ries,  who  preached  in  a 
church  on  Calvert  Street.  I  had  often  heard  of  him.  When  I 
met  Rev.  Daniel  Davis,  on  my  first  visit  to  the  Northern  Neck, 
he  spoke  in  glowing  terms  of  Elder  Ries.  He  was  the  greatest  man 
of  God  that  he  had  ever  seen.     His  talents  were  not  appreciated 


168  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

in  Baltimore.  Elder  Davis  thought  that  he  must  remove  to 
Baltimore  to  aid  Brother  Ries  in  his  unequal  conflict  with  false 
religious  doctrine.  From  other  sources  I  have  learned  that  he 
was  a  high  Calvinist,  if  not  an  Antinomian,  and  a  leader  of  the 
Anti-mission  party.  He  was  a  small  man,  and,  when  I  saw  him, 
quite  beyond  the  meridian  of  life.  His  congregation,  on  a  pleas- 
ant evening,  in  a  central  part  of  Baltimore,  numbered  about 
twenty  persons.  His  text  was  Matt.  v.  20 :  "  For  I  say  unto 
you,  That  except  your  righteousness  shall  exceed  the  righteous- 
ness of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  ye  shall  in  no  case  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  heaven."  The  sermon  was  sound  in  the  faith. 
Though  the  text  did  not  demand  it,  he  discussed  the  high  points 
of  Calvinism  with  intense  earnestness,  before  an  audience  that 
was  thoroughly  indoctrinated,  and  had  listened,  no  doubt,  a 
hundred  times  to  the  same  discussion.  He  was  not  discouraged, 
because  he  considered  that,  as  his  congregation  was  diminished 
in  size,  it  was  increased  in  purity  and  merit.  Elder  Davis,  we 
learned,  afterwards  removed  to  Baltimore  to  assist  Brother  Eies 
in  his  labors :  but  it  was  not  long  before  he  discovered  that  his 
helper  was  unsound,  and  denounced  him  as  an  Arminian.  Elder 
Davis  returned  to  Virginia  a  wiser  man,  and  quite  changed  in 
spirit.  Elder  Ries,  by  a  most  faithful  ministry,  as  he  deemed  it, 
succeeded  in  annihilating  the  church — a  result  which,  so  far  as  I 
know,  invariably  follows  the  preaching  of  Antinomianism. 

I  may  here  mention  a  matter  out  of  its  chronological  order. 
The  Baptists  in  Baltimore  being  few,  and  their  cause  feebly  sus- 
tained, Deacon  William  Crane,  the  founder  and  architect  of  the 
Second  Baptist  Church  of  this  city,  a  few  years  from  this  time, 
resolved  to  remove  to  Baltimore  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  a 
new  church  there.  After  the  dissolution  of  Mr.  Ries'  church, 
the  deacon  purchased  the  house  on  Calvert  Street  in  which  it 
met.  I  was  invited  to  unite  with  him  in  the  enterprise.  To  de- 
cide the  matter  judicially,  I  made  another  trip  to  the  Mon- 
umental City.  I  shared  in  the  hospitality  of  Mrs.  H.,  a 
venerable  sister  who  sympathized  with  Brother  Crane  in  his 
scheme.  I  preached  to  a  small  congregation  in  the  Calvert 
Street  house.  Sister  H.  inquired,  after  the  sermon,  whether  I 
was  frightened.     On  being  assured  that  I  was  not,  she  said  she 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  169 

supposed  that  I  was,  that  something  was  the  matter  with  me  as  I 
did  not  preach  so  well  as  she  had  expected.  What  was  the  measure 
of  her  expectation  or  how  it  had  been  created  I  knew  not.  I 
admired  her  frankness,  but  was  in  nowise  discouraged  by  her 
disappointment ;  for  I  had  learned  that  no  sermon  could  be  so 
excellent  but  that  some  persons  would  find  fault  with  it,  or  so 
poor  that  others  would  not  praise  it.  It  was  for  some  time  un- 
decided whether  I  should  remove  to  Baltimore  or  remain  in 
Virginia  Finally  it  was  agreed  to  leave  the  question  to  the 
decision  of  a  committee  of  ministers  of  the  Dover  Association 
at  its  session  with  the  Upper  King  and  Queen  Church,  in  the 
year  1834.     The  committee  decided  adversely. 

In  1832  he  paid  his  first  visit  to  New  York.  He 
went  to  attend  the  Baptist  Triennial  Convention,  and 
his  account  of  that  trip  is  so  fraught  with  pleasant 
incidents  that,  even  at  the  risk  of  extending  this 
chapter  to  an  undue  length,  I  present  it  in  full : 


At  that  time  a  journey  from  the  Northern  Neck  to  the  Amer- 
ican emporium  was  not  what  it  now  is.  Accompanied  by  my 
friend,  Colonel  Hall,  I  traveled  in  a  steamer  to  Baltimore,  and 
thence  to  French  town,  at  the  head  of  the  Chesapeake  Bay.  Here 
I  first  saw  a  railroad,  on  which  the  passengers  were  drawn  by 
horses  across  the  peninsula,  at  the  rate  of  six  or  eight  miles  an 
hour,  to  Newcastle,  on  the  Delaware  River.  From  this  point  my 
companion  and  myself  ascended  the  river  in  a  steamer,  touching 
at  Philadelphia,  and  landing  at  Trenton,  N.  J.  From  this  place 
we  went  with  a  long  line  of  coaches  by  Princeton  to  New  Bruns- 
wick, on  the  Raritan  River.  Down  this  narrow  stream  we  were 
carried  in  a  steamer  to  its  mouth,  and  across  the  bay  to  New 
York.  I  have  described  our  journey  that  the  reader  may  see 
how  great  a  change  has  taken  place  in  the  manner  of  traveling 
in  a  period  of  forty-seven  years. 

New  York  impressed  me  as  a  great  city.  At  that  time  there 
was  a  strong  commercial  rivalry  between  it  and  the  city  of 
Philadelphia.  Each  was  striving  for  the  pre-eminence.  A 
glance  at  the  shipping  in  New  York  Harbor,  and  its  crowded, 


170  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

busy  streets,  furnished  decisive  proof  that  the  contest  could  not 
last  long,  and  was  of  no  doubtful  issue.  It  then  contained  a  pop- 
ulation of  about  two  hundred  thousand,  and  was  rapidly  growing 
and  extending  its  trade.  My  companion  and  myself  shared  in 
the  hospitality  of  Brother  Luke  Davies  and  his  family.  He  was 
a  minister,  without  charge,  was  engaged  in  the  manufacture  of 
stocks,  then  just  coming  into  use.  I  was  quite  surprised  to  see 
Rev.  S.  H.  Cone  with  one  on  his  neck,  as  he  was  the  first  minister 
whom  I  had  seen  following  that  fashion.  By  our  host  and  his 
family  we  were  courteously  received  and  treated  with  princely  fare. 

The  Convention  assembled  in  Oliver  Street  Church,  then  un- 
der the  pastorate  of  Elder  S.  H.  Cone.  Since  the  last  meeting 
of  the  body  the  Rev.  R.  B.  Semple,  who  had  presided  with  dig- 
nity over  its  deliberations,  had  passed  to  his  reward,  and  the 
popular  pastor  of  Oliver  Street  Church  was  elected  to  fill  the 
chair.  Cone  was  in  the  prime  of  life,  rather  below  the  ordinary 
size  of  men,  with  a  peculiarly  open  and  cheerful  countenance, 
and  a  head  prematurely  white.  He  presided  over  the  Conven- 
tion with  great  promptness,  efficiency  and  firmness.  He  assumed 
more  authority  than  would  have  been  tolerated  in  a  strictly  par- 
liamentary body ;  but  he  exercised  it  for  the  dispatch  of  business. 

Here  I  first  met  many  prominent  Baptist  ministers,  whom  I  sub- 
sequently knew  more  or  less  intimately.  Some  I  will  mention. 
Dr.  Sharp  was  a  Boston  pastor,  an  Englishman  by  birth  and  edu- 
cation, a  slow,  hesitating  speaker,  but  calm  and  weighty  in 
council.  Dr.  Bolles,  Secretary  of  the  Board,  led  by  his  office  to 
take  an  active  part  in  the  business  of  the  Convention,  without 
brilliant  talents,  was  a  judicious  and  diligent  officer.  Dr.  Ken- 
drick.  President  of  Hamilton  College,  New  York,  was  a  tall, 
raw-boned,  rough-looking  man,  with  strong  sense  and  decided  in- 
fluence in  the  Convention.  Wayland,  Knowles  and  Stow  were 
the  rising  men  of  the  body.  Wayland  had  established  his  repu- 
tation as  a  preacher  by  his  published  sermon  on  the  Moral  Dig- 
nity of  the  Missionary  Enterprise  ;  but  his  manner  of  speaking 
did  not  correspond  with  the  beauty  and  strength  of  his  written 
style.  Knowles  had  gained  renown  by  his  admirable  Life  of 
Mrs.  Judson,  but  added  nothing  to  it  by  anything  which  he  said 
in  the  Convention ;  and,  to  the  universal  sorrow  of  the  denomi- 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  171 

nation,  soon  fell  a  victim  to  small-pox,  the  scourge  of  the  human 
race.  Stow  had  distiuguished  himself  as  the  editor  of  the  Col- 
umbian Star,  and  preached,  if  I  mistake  not,  the  introductory 
sermon  before  the  Convention,  without  derogating  from  his  repu- 
tation or  diminishing  the  promise  of  his  usefulness.  I  must  not 
omit  the  names  of  Fathers  Bennet  and  Peck.  They  were  minis- 
ters of  the  old  dispensation,  residing  in  the  western  part  of  the 
State  of  New  York,  venerable  for  their  age,  and  distinguished  for 
their  piety,  good  sense  and  usefulness.  They  were  among  the  most 
devout,  zealous,  heart-stirring  preachers  that  I  have  ever  known. 
If  wise  councils  were  needed,  or  oil  was  to  be  poured  on  the  troub- 
led waters,  or  the  blessing  of  God  was  to  be  invoked,  Fathers  Ben- 
net  and  Peck  were  always  in  demand  ;  and  they  were  not  called 
on  in  vain.  Time  would  fail  me  to  speak  of  Maclay,  Dodge  (of 
New  Jersey),  Galusha,  Choules  and  many  others — all  trusted  for 
their  wisdom,  loved  for  their  piety  and  honored  for  their  gifts. 

The  representation  from  the  South  was  small.  Luther  Rice, 
then  laboring  there,  Brantly  (the  elder)  and  Dagg,  both  South- 
ern men  and  pastors  in  Philadelphia ;  Saunders  and  Judge 
Stocks  from  Georgia  (if  my  memory  is  not  at  fault),  with  others, 
doubtless,  whom  I  have  forgotten,  were  all  present,  and  some  of 
them  prominent  in  the  Convention. 

The  routine  of  the  body  was  dispatched  without  special  inter- 
est. One  matter  almost  absorbed  its  attention.  The  Board  sup- 
ported a  mission  among  the  Indians  of  Georgia.  The  Legisla- 
ture of  the  State  had  passed  laws  extending  its  jurisdiction  over 
the  Indians  within  its  territory,  and  requiring  that  persons  re- 
siding among  them,  missionaries  as  well  as  others,  should,  on  pain 
of  incarceration  in  the  penitentiary,  acknowledge  its  authority. 
The  Baptist  missionaries,  without  complaint  or  reluctance,  sub- 
mitted to  the  authority  of  the  State,  and,  without  its  interference, 
successfully  prosecuted  their  work.  The  Presbyterian  missionary 
in  the  Indian  territory  deemed  it  his  duty  to  pursue  a  different 
course.  Denying  the  right  of  the  State  of  Georgia  to  exercise 
jurisdiction  over  the  Indians  in  their  territory,  he  refused  to  yield 
to  its  authority ;  and  was,  consequently,  arrested,  tried,  con- 
demned and  actually  sent  to  labor  in  the  State  penitentiary. 
The  matter  created  great  excitement  in  the  country,  and  became 
the  theme  of  political  and  sectional  controversy. 


172  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

The  committee  of  the  Convention  on  Indian  Missions  brought 
in  a  report  approving  the  course  pursued  by  the  Baptist  mission- 
aries in  Georgia.  The  report  was  calm  in  its  spirit  and  prudent 
in  its  statements  ;  and  would  have  been  promptly  adopted  had 
it  not  been  supposed  that  by  implication  it  approved  the  course 
of  Georgia,  and  censured  the  conduct  of  the  Presbyterian  minis- 
ter. It  led  to  a  protracted  and  heated  discussion,  in  which  Ga- 
lusha  and  Choules  took  prominent  part  in  opposition  to  the  re- 
port, and  Rice  in  support  of  it.  After  a  wearisome  and,  no 
doubt,  quite  able  debate,  the  subject  was  referred  to  a  select  com- 
mittee, of  which  J  L.  Dagg  was  chairman,  or  for  which,  at  least, 
he  prepared  and  read  the  report. 

The  next  day,  when  the  heat  of  the  controversy  had,  in  a  good 
measure,  subsided,  Dagg  read  the  report  of  the  select  committee, 
modified  to  avoid  the  objections  which  had  been  urged  against  it. 
He  followed  its  reading  with  a  speech,  which,  in  my  judgment, 
was  the  speech  of  the  Convention.  It  was  calm,  clear,  forcible 
and  in  a  lovely  spirit.  It  was  simply  a  question  whether  the 
Convention  should  approve  or  censure  the  conduct  of  their  mis- 
sionaries in  Georgia.  They  had  violated  no  law  of  God  or  man. 
They  had  acted  prudently,  their  labors  had  been  owned  of  God, 
and  they  were  entitled  to  the  commendation  of  their  brethren. 
If  the  Presbyterian  missionary  deemed  it  proper  to  pursue  a  dif- 
ferent course,  that  was  no  concern  of  the  Convention.  Let  the 
Presbyterians  attend  to  it.  1  do  not  give  an  outline,  but  merely 
the  topics  of  the  speech.  It  made  a  deep  impression,  elicited  no 
reply,  and  the  report  was  adopted,  I  think,  unanimously. 

I  heard  but  little  preaching  during  the  meeting  of  the  Con- 
vention. Dr.  Way  land  preached  at  night  in  the  Oliver  Street 
Church.  The  congregation  was  not  crowded.  Indeed,  I  was 
surprised  at  the  little  interest  awakened  in  the  proceedings  of  the 
Convention  in  the  great,  bustling  city  of  New  York,  so  strikingly 
in  contrast  with  what  I  had  seen  on  similar  occasions  in  the  cities 
of  Virginia.  The  doctor  preached  from  Rom.  vii.  13  :  "  That  sin 
by  the  commandment  might  become  exceeding  sinful."  His 
theme  was  the  sinfulness  of  sin  ;  and  he  illustrated  his  doctrine 
by  showing  the  obligation  which  sin  violates — as  seen  in  the 
power  it  defies — the  goodness  it  abuses — the  holiness  it  offends — 


THE  NORTHERN  NECK.  173 

and  the  long-suffering  it  rejects,  and  in  the  effects  it  produces — 
as  seen  in  the  happiness  it  sacrifices — the  punishment  it  incurs 
and  the  reward  it  offers.  From  the  doctrine,  he  inferred  the 
justice  of  God  in  punishing  sin,  his  grace  in  providing  a  Saviour 
for  sinners,  and  concluded  by  pointing  out  the  bearing  of  the 
subject  on  the  mission  cause.  The  sermon  was  plain,  sensible 
and  solemn,  but  lacked  the  graces  of  oratory  and  the  impressive 
fervor  which  I  had  expected.  Masculine  common  sense,  as  I  af- 
terwards more  fully  learned,  was  the  characteristic  of  Dr.  Way- 
land's  mind  and  sermons. 

Sunday  morning  I  preached  to  a  small  Welsh  congregation  in 
Brooklyn.  The  town  contained  at  that  time,  if  I  remember 
rightly,  twelve  or  fourteen  thousand  inhabitants,  and  gave,  to  my 
unpracticed  eyes,  no  indication  of  its  rapid  growth  and  its  coming 
prosperity.  I  do  not  recollect  the  subject  on  which  I  preached, 
or  anything  pertaining  to  the  services.  At  their  close  I  was 
assured  by  a  Welsh  brother  that  my  manner  of  preaching  was 
very  much  like  that  of  the  Welsh  ministers.  I  received  the  re- 
mark as  a  great  compliment,  as  about  that  time  the  celebrated 
extract  from  a  sermon  of  Christmas  Evans,  concerning  the  ap- 
pearance of  Christ  at  Calvary,  after  a  lapse  of  four  thousand 
years,  to  fulfill  his  covenant  obligations  for  the  redemption  of 
sinners,  was  widely  circulated  and  greatly  admired.  Howbeit, 
the  good  brother  did  not  intimate  that  my  sermon  bore  any  re- 
semblance to  the  eloquent  and  seraphic  specimen  of  Evans' 
preaching,  but  only  to  the  ordinary  style  of  the  Welsh  sermons. 

We  now  have  reached  the  end  of  his  happy  and 
successful  career  in  the  Northern  Neck.  How 
abundantly  God  had  blessed  him !  He  had  grown 
in  intelligence,  confidence  and  public  favor,  and  now 
the  Lord  had  other  and  more  important  work  for 
him  to  do.  In  the  modest  words  which  follow,  he 
tells  us  of  his  unsolicited  call  to  one  of  the  most 
prominent  and  responsible  pastorates  in  the  country. 
The  summons  was  promptly  heeded,  and  in  a  few 


174  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

weeks  this  servant  of  the  Lord,  then  only  thirty- 
three  years  of  age,  retired  from  his  rural  pastorate 
and  began  his  work  in  the  capital  city  of  Virginia. 

In  the  autumn  of  1835  I  was  invited  to  the  pastorate  of  the 
First  Baptist  Church  of  this  city.  The  honor  was  by  me  un- 
sought and  unexpected.  I  have  made  a  few  changes  in  my  min- 
isterial life ;  and  usually  with  great  anxiety,  doubtfulness  and 
sorrow.  I  accepted,  after  a  short  delay,  the  invitation  to  settle 
in  Richmond,  without  a  lingering  doubt  of  the  propriety  of  the 
measure.  During  my  residence  in  the  Northern  Neck  two  young 
men  had  been  called  into  the  ministry,  and  solemnly  ordained  to  the 
work — Col.  Addison  Hall  and  Dr.  William  H.  Kirk — the  latter 
baptized  by  me  and  the  former  by  Straughan.  They  were 
men  of  piety,  culture,  useful  gifts  and  high  respectability.  They 
were  well  fitted  to  occupy  the  field  in  which  I  was  laboring  ;  but 
while  I  remained  in  it,  being  older  in  the  ministry  and  pastor  of 
the  churches,  it  was  not  probable  that  their  talents  would  be  fully 
developed  or  successfully  employed.  It  was  more  convenient  for 
me  to  change  my  location  than  it  was  for  them.  I  followed  the 
leading  of  Providence,  and  never  have  had  cause  to  regret  my 
course.  Hall  and  Kirk  became  pastors  of  the  churches,  and  ac- 
complished a  greater  amount  of  good  than  would  probably  have 
been  effected  had  I  continued  in  charge  of  them. 

My  firm  conviction  that  I  should  leave  the  Northern  Neck  did 
not  prevent  my  removal  from  being  a  trying  and  sorrowful 
event.  Most  of  the  members  of  the  churches  I  had  baptized.  I 
had  received  from  them  the  kindest  and  most  brotherly  treat- 
ment. If  there  was  a  man,  woman  or  child  in  all  my  congrega- 
tions, except  one,  who  was  not  opposed  to  my  leaving,  I  did  not 
know  it.  That  one  was  Deacon  Thomas  S.  Sydnor,  among  the 
truest  and  most  devoted  of  all  my  friends.  Under  all  the  cir- 
cumstances, he  gave  it  as  his  opinion,  in  opposition  to  the  warm- 
est feelings  of  friendship,  that  it  was  my  duty  to  accept  the  call 
in  Richmond.  To  add  to  the  trial,  the  change  involved  the 
necessity  of  leaving  the  grave  of  my  first  wife,  and  breaking,  in 
a  measure,  the  tender  tits  of  my  second  to  her  family  and  the 
place  of  her  nativity. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

SETTLEMENT  IN  EICHMOND. 

R.  JETER  entered  upon  his  duties  as  pastor 
of  the  First  Baptist  Church  of  Richmond,  Va., 
on  the  first  Lord's  day  in  January,  1836. 
That  event,  so  memorable  in  his  history,  was  empha- 
sized by  special  services,  of  which  he  makes  brief 
mention  in  his  "  Recollections ."  If  we  judge  that 
occasion  by  the  notice  which  it  received  in  the 
Religious  Herald  of  that  week,  we  must  infer  that 
it  was  quite  unpretending,  and  in  harmony  with  the 
severely  simple  tastes  of  those  times.  The  editor 
consumed  only  ten  lines  in  celebrating  Jeter's  advent 
into  the  city.  He  mentions  the  fact  of  his  installa- 
tion as  the  bishop  of  the  First  Church,  and  states 
that  three  addresses  were  delivered  at  the  time — one 
to  the  pastor  by  Rev.  S.  Cornelius,  one  to  the 
church  by  Rev.  J.  B.  Taylor  and  one  to  the  deacons 
by  Rev.  W.  F.  Nelson.  The  extra  attention  paid  to 
the  deacons  on  the  occasion  must  have  been  peculiar 
to  that  day,  since,  in  the  programmes  of  more  recent 
installations,  that  item  never  appears.  This  omis- 
sion may  help  to  explain  why  it  has  gradually  come 
to  pass  that  the  subordination  of  the  diaconate  to 
the  pastoral  office,  so  clearly  indicated  in  Scripture, 
is  now  often  overlooked.     Dr.  Jeter   found   in    his 

175 


176  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

board  of  deacons  the  most  cordial  support  during 
his  entire  service  in  that  church. 

While  the  new  pastor  was  inducted  into  his  office 
in  a  manner  so  free  from  ostentation,  it  must  have 
been  to  him  an  event  of  thrilling  importance.  It 
marked  a  solemn  and  critical  turn  in  the  current  of 
his  life.  The  little  mountain  stream  upon  which,  a 
few  years  before,  he  had  set  his  bark,  had  been 
growing  wider  and  deeper.  Suddenly  it  turned  in 
a  new  direction,  and  opened  before  him  a  vast  and 
startling  prospect.'  The  change  must  have  filled 
him  with  mingled  solicitude  and  exultation. 

The  First  Church  was  even  then  historic.  It  had 
behind  it  a  record  of  fifty-six  years.  It  is  not  for 
me  to  recount,  at  any  length,  the  story  of  that  excel- 
lent old  church.  It  was  born  in  1780,  amid  the 
throes  of  the  Revolution,  and  began  its  career  as  a 
feeble  and  homeless  band.  In  the  face  of  manifold 
hindrances  it  grew  steadily,  until  in  1836  it  had 
become  a  vigorous  and  intelligent  body.  From  the 
beginning  it  had  enjoyed  the  ministrations  of  strong 
and  faithful  men. 

Joshua  Morris  was  its  first  pastor.  It  was  by  his 
paternal  care  that  the  infant  church  was  nursed  into 
life,  and  he  lovingly  guarded  it  amidst  the  dread 
alarms  of  war.  It  was  a  day  of  small  things,  but 
Morris  was  faithful  in  that  which  was  least. 

He  was  followed  by  John  Courtney,  who  for 
thirty-six  years  went  in  and  out  before  the  church. 
Dr.  J.  L.  Burrows  describes  Courtney  as  "  an  hum- 
ble, plain  man,  without  the  advantages  of  early 
education,  but  a   godly  and   laborious  minister  of 


SETTLEMENT  IN  RICHMOND.  177 

Christ."  He  came  to  the  charge  of  the  church  just 
as  peace  and  independence  became  the  heritage  of 
the  American  people.  He  was  a  faithful  man,  and 
let  it  be  recorded  to  the  honor  of  his  people  that 
they  did  not  cast  him  off  when  he  became  old. 
They  called  Rev.  John  Bryce  to  aid  the  super- 
annuated pastor,  and  for  twelve  years  they  worked 
pleasantly  together.  When  Bryce  retired,  Andrew 
Broaddus,  one  of  the  most  princely  and  captivating 
men  that  ever  belonged  to  the  Virginia  ministry, 
became  associate  pastor.  He  tarried  only  a  single 
year,  when,  chafed  by  the  inevitable  exactions  and 
conventionalities  of  city  life,  he  returned  to  his  Caro- 
line home. 

In  1825  the  church  secured  Elder  John  Kerr  for 
its  pastor.  He  was  a  man  of  noble  physique,  bril- 
liant genius  and  imperial  eloquence.  Dr.  Jeter  said 
of  him,  that  he  was  the  most  majestic  orator  that  he 
ever  heard.  He  was  a  thrilling  pulpit  attraction, 
but  eccentric,  impulsive  and  unsystematic.  It  was 
fortunate  that  upon  his  retirement,  in  1833,  the 
church  secured  Rev.  Isaac  Taylor  Hinton  as  his 
successor.  Hinton  was  an  Englishman,  and  highly 
educated.  Dr.  W.  D.  Thomas  tells  us  that  he  was 
"  a  very  superior  preacher — acute,  able  and  instruc- 
tive, and  that  the  church  steadily  grew  while  in  his 
charge."  In  describing  Hinton  as  a  man  of  sharp 
intellect,  fair  education  and  admirable  gifts  for  organ- 
izing, Dr.  Jeter  draws  the  following  picture  of  the 
church  as  he  received  it  from  Hinton's  hands :  "  I 
found  the  church  in  an  admirable  state  of  organiza- 
tion from  the  labors  and  timely  suggestions  of  its 
12 


178  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

late  pastor.  It  was  divided  into  districts ;  the  mem- 
bers in  every  district  placed  under  suitable  super- 
vision, plans  for  usefulness  judiciously  arranged,  and 
the  church  manual  containing  the  name  and  resi- 
dence of  every  member,  and  much  valuable  informa- 
tion for  the  assistance  of  the  pastor.  The  church 
was  as  systematically  organized  as  any  well-drilled 
military  company." 

Hinton  resigned  in  1835,  and  after  several  pastor- 
ates in  the  West,  went  to  New  Orleans,  where,  in 
1847,  he  fell  a  victim  to  the  yellow  fever. 

It  was  at  this  point  that  the  choice  of  this  church 
fell  upon  Jeremiah  B.  Jeter.  He  was  then  in  the 
thirty-fourth  year  of  his  age,  and  it  had  been  only  a 
little  over  a  dozen  years  since  he  had  emerged  from 
Bedford,  a  raw  and  untutored  stripling.  Those  who 
remember  his  ardent  temperament  and  ever-glowing 
ambition  can  well  understand  the  almost  exultant 
pleasure  with  which  he  contemplated  this  sudden 
distinction.  There  was  much  in  it  to  gratify,  and 
even  to  dazzle  him.  His  call  was  a  revelation.  It 
unveiled  him  as  a  coming  man.  Though  his  lot  for 
the  previous  nine  years  had  been  cast  in  an  isolated 
field,  and  though  he  was  yet  far  short  of  the  meridian 
of  life,  the  evidences  of  his  power  and  the  fame  of 
his  success  had  already  begun  to  spread.  There  was 
in  his  selection  for  the  First  Church  pastorate  an 
acknowledgment  of  his  gifts,  a  tribute  to  his  fidelity 
and  a  prophecy  of  yet  higher  achievement. 

His  removal  to  Richmond  was  an  epoch  in  his  life. 
It  was  a  sudden  translation  from  the  quietude  of  a 
rural  pastorate  to  a  post  of  commanding  and  repre- 


SETTLEMENT  IN  RICHMOND.  179 

sentative  importance.  From  a  provincialist,  he  was, 
in  the  Baptist  sense  of  the  term,  transformed  into  a 
metropolitan.  Hitherto  he  had  been  the  central 
figure  of  a  community,  but  now  he  was  to  try  his 
fortunes  in  the  capital  city  of  his  State.  Before  he 
had  preached  once  a  week  to  admiring  and  uncritical 
audiences,  but  now  he  was  to  preach  three  sermons 
a  week,  and  that,  too,  in  the  presence  of  those  who 
had  enjoyed  the  ministrations  of  the  foremost  men 
of  the  times.  From  tasks  few  and  light  he  was 
summoned  to  shoulder  burdens  numberless  and 
heavy.  To  the  duties  of  a  great  pastorate  he  was 
to  add  the  yet  more  complicated  and  vexatious  cares 
of  denominational  work. 

With  what  emotions  did  he  face  the  new  situation! 
It  is  not  easy  to  answer  this  question  with  candor 
without  being  misunderstood.  All  along  I  have 
admitted  that  Dr.  Jeter  was  intensely  ambitious. 
By  nature  he  loved  the  pre-eminence,  and  even 
under  the  subduing  power  of  grace  he  gloried  in 
leadership.  I  must  be  equally  frank  in  admitting 
that  he  was  not  a  stranger  to  his  own  strength.  He 
believed  in  himself.  This  was  so  apparent,  at  times, 
that  it  exposed  him  to  the  suspicion  of  unholy  self- 
reliance.  To  the  superficial  he  often  appeared  over- 
confident, and  even  reckless  and  vain-glorious. 

But  this  was  not  true.  He  was  a  thoroughly 
converted  man.  He  knew  that  of  himself  he  could 
do  nothing,  and  in  that  hopeful  dash  and  spring 
which  marked  his  movements  he  was  animated,  not 
by  a  sense  of  his  own  strength,  but  by  a  joyous  and 
uplifting  trust  in  the  living  God.     He  harbored  no 


180  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

extravagant  notions  of  his  abilities,  and  all  his  life 
he  was  painfully  hampered  by  the  consciousness  that 
his  lack  of  education  seriously  narrowed  the  sphere 
of  his  movements.  But  he  knew  that  he  had  gifts, 
and  he  was  devoid  of  that  spurious  humility  which 
prompts  some  to  deny  the  possession  of  powers  of 
which  they  are  conscious.  He  did  not  boast  of  his 
talents,  but  was  thankful  for  them,  and  sought  to 
make  the  most  of  them. 

He  says  that  in  his  youth  he  was  a  castle-builder, 
but  of  all  men,  I  think  he  was  the  freest  from 
romantic  sentiment.  He  indulged  no  Utopian  dreams 
as  to  his  future,  and  erected  no  airy  monuments  in 
honor  of  himself.  He  looked  at  things  in  a  cool 
and  sensible  way.  He  never  posed  as  a  favorite  of 
Providence,  nor  fancied  that  success  would  follow 
him  as  an  obsequious  courtier.  His  creed  was  very 
simple.  He  held  that  if  a  man  would  faithfully  use 
his  strength,  and  avail  himself  of  opportunities  as 
they  opened  before  him,  he  would  succeed.  He 
knew  that  he  possessed  some  endowments  and  quali- 
fications for  usefulness — not  so  great  and  attractive 
as  others  had,  but  ample  for  real  effectiveness. 
He  saw  that  in  Richmond  he  would  have  a  broad 
and  engaging  field,  and  that  by  patience  and  industry 
he  might  reap  a  rich  harvest.  Whatever  ambitious 
thoughts  may  have  been  awakened  by  the  outlook, 
were  thoroughly  subordinated  to  the  deeper  sense  of 
duty.  And  so  he  put  these  things  together,  and 
enshrining  the  promises  of  God  in  his  heart,  he 
promptly  accepted  the  call  to  Richmond. 

He  found  the  church  worshipping  in  a  building 


SETTLEMENT  IN  RICHMOND.  181 

which  stood  at  the  corner  of  Broad  and  College 
Streets,  on  the  same  site  where  now  stands  the 
immense  edifice  erected  a  few  years  ago  by  the  First 
African  Church.  The  old  structure  was  originally 
small,  and  never  attractive,  but  it  had  undergone 
various  additions  and  improvements,  which  at  least 
rendered  it  capacious  and  comfortable. 

At  the  time  he  began  his  labors  the  church  had  a 
membership  of  1717,  of  which  1384  were  colored  and 
333  white.  He  found  the  church  in  fine  working 
order — harmonious,  well-organized  and  hopeful.  For 
this  condition  of  things  he  often  acknowledged  his 
indebtedness  to  his  youthful  predecessor,  Isaac  Tay- 
lor Hinton. 

He  began  his  Richmond  career  without  noise  or 
parade.  He  had  no  cumbrous  reputation  to  embar- 
rass him.  It  never  crossed  his  mind  that  he 
could  increase  his  power  by  resorting  to  sensational 
expedients.  He  brought  with  him  no  startling  ec- 
centricities by  which  he  hoped  to  attract  public  atten- 
tion and  draw  in  a  curious  and  unthinking  crowd. 
He  advertised  no  high-straining  topics  and  indulged 
in  no  buffooneries  or  extravagances  in  the  pulpit. 
It  was  not  the  day  of  fashionable  choirs  or  pompous 
and  elaborate  services,  such  as  feed  the  fancy  and 
tickle  the  tastes  of  sentimental  religionists.  He 
brought  nothing  except  a  burning  soul,  a  dauntless 
courage  and  a  living  faith  in  the  word  of  the  Lord. 
He  signalized  his  advent  by  no  important  changes, 
but  modestly  fell  in  line  and  worked  with  his  church. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  Dr.  Jeter  furnished  such 
scanty  reminiscences  of  his  First  Church  pastorate. 


182  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

The  secret  of  his  reserve  is  easily  explained.  When 
he  wrote  his  Recollections  he  lived  in  Richmond,  and 
he  could  not  have  attempted  details  without  speak- 
ing too  freely  of  persons  then  living.  What  he  has 
to  say  of  his  pastorate  will  prove  delightful  reading, 
not  only  to  the  Richmond  reader,  but  to  all  under 
whose  eyes  these  pages  may  fall. 

On  the  first  Lord's-day  morning  of  January  I  preached  my 
introductory  sermon  before  the  church  from  1  Cor.  ii.  2 :  "  For  I 
determined  not  to  know  anything  among  you,  save  Jesus  Christ 
and  him  crucified."  In  considering  the  theme  of  the  apostolic 
ministry,  "  Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified,"  I  noticed  its  extent, 
importance  and  efficacy,  and  closed  with  remarks  pertinent  to  my 
entrance  on  the  pastorate.  At  night  appropriate  services  were 
held  in  the  church,  in  which  Elders  J.  B.  Taylor,  Addison  Hall, 
Samuel  Cornelius,  W.  F.  Nelson  and  H.  Keeling  participated, 
all  of  whom  have  closed  their  labors  and  entered  on  their  reward. 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  give  a  detailed  account  of  my  life  while 
pastor  of  the  church,  but  to  record  my  recollections  of  some 
prominent  events,  and  my  views  of  a  few  distinguished  persons 
with  whom  I  was  associated  during  that  period.  It  will  be  neces- 
sary, however,  for  the  better  understanding  of  this  record,  that  I 
should  give  a  brief  sketch  of  my  pastorate.  My  connection  with 
the  church  continued  about  thirteen  years  and  a  half.  It  was 
an  eventful  and  important  period  of  my  life.  I  was  brought  into 
a  new,  responsible  and  difficult  sphere  of  activity.  My  relations 
with  the  church  throughout  the  whole  time  of  my  pastorate  were 
harmonious  and  pleasant.  It  was  to  me  a  season  of  great  anxiety 
and  toil,  as  well  as  of  hopefulness  and  pleasure.  My  labors  and 
faithfulness  were  not  so  great  as  they  might  have  been ;  but  at 
the  close  I  had  little  cause  of  self-reproach.  I  had  endeavored, 
with  diligence  and  earnestness,  to  perform  the  various  and  oner- 
ous duties  of  my  office. 

My  success  in  this  pastorate,  while  it  was  not  commensurate 
with  my  desire  for  usefulness,  called  for  devout  thanksgiving  to 
God.     During  this  period  the  church  enjoyed  several  precious 


SETTLEMENT  IN  RICHMOND.  183 

revivals,  and  received  large  and  valuable  accessions.  I  baptized 
about  one  thousand  persons,  white  and  colored,  in  connection 
with  the  church,  many  of  whom  became  ministers  of  the  word  of 
God — among  them  I  may  mention  Dr.  Garlick,  of  this  city,  and 
Dr.  Henson,  of  Philadelphia.  The  church,  numbering  about 
three  hundred  members  when  I  took  charge  of  it,  contained 
more  than  six  hundred  when  I  resigned  my  pastorate.  It  would 
be  invidious  to  compare  those  I  left  in  the  church  with  those 
whom  I  found  in  it ;  but  this  much  may  be  fairly  said :  Many 
of  the  members  introduced  into  it  during  my  labors  were  noble 
specimens  of  piety  and  activity,  who  have  continued  through  the 
long  period  of  thirty  years,  and  under  the  pastorates  of  Manly, 
Burrows  and  Warren  to  be  pillars  in  the  house  of  God.  The 
most  important  event  of  my  ministry  was  probably  the  organiza- 
tion of  the  First  African  Church,  of  which  I  purpose  to  furnish  an 
account  in  my  next  article. 

In  a  former  chapter  I  have  spoken  of  Dr.  Jeter's 
extremely  gentle  and  provident  care  for  his  mother. 
It  is  pleasant  to  know  that  that  mother,  whose 
pleasures  were  not  very  many  on  the  earth,  lingered 
long  enough  to  see  the  son  of  her  pride  lifted  to  a 
position  which,  in  her  modest  eyes,  must  have  seemed 
truly  lofty  and  glorious.  If  the  truth  was  known,  I 
suppose  that  it  would  be  found  that  one  of  Dr.  Jeter's 
chief  reasons  for  relishing  distinction  so  keenly  was 
that  it  shed  sunshine  on  his  mother's  heart.  He 
delighted  to  write  to  her  and  tell  her  of  all  the  for- 
tunate and  happy  things  which  befell  him.  How 
much  he  missed  her  sweet  sympathy  when  she  went 
to  her  grave !  Her  death  occurred  during  his  first 
residence  in  Richmond,  and  in  the  following  words  he 
pays  her  his  grateful  tribute  : 

During  the  time  I  was  called  to  taste  the  bitter  cup  of  affliction. 
My  mother,  for  whom  I  cherished  the  most  filial  and  tender  affection, 


184  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

passed  to  her  long  home.  A  man  may  have  many  friends,  but  he 
can  have  only  one  mother ;  and  he  that  loses  a  good  mother  sustains 
an  irreparable  loss.  It  has  been  to  me  a  life-long  grief  that  my 
mother  did  not  live  until  I  had  some  opportunity  of  requiting 
her  many  years  of  toil,  care  and  kindness  on  my  behalf.  It  is  to 
me,  in  old  age,  a  great  pleasure  that  I  have  no  recollection  of 
having  disobeyed  her,  or  uttered  a  disrespectful  word  to  her.  In  the 
same  period  1  followed  to  the  grave  my  second  wife — Sarah  Ann, 
nee  Gaskins — after  a  protracted  illness,  and  the  most  triumphant 
death  which,  in  a  ministry  of  more  than  fifty  years,  it  has  been  my 
privilege  to  witness.  I  really  do  not  know  how  such  calmness, 
such  hope,  such  joy,  such  perfect  self-possession,  such  courage  and 
elevation  of  mind,  as  she  displayed  in  the  immediate  and  cer- 
tain prospect  of  death,  on  the  part  of  one  in  the  meridian  of  life, 
could  be  accounted  for,  except  on  the  supposition  that  she  was 
sustained  and  cheered  by  divine  grace.  The  hour  of  her  death 
was  the  hour  of  her  triumph  and  rapture ;  and  she  might  well 
have  been  conveyed  to  the  tomb — as  I  heard  Spurgeon  express 
the  wish  that  he  might  be — in  a  white  hearse,  adorned  with  white 
plumes  and  drawn  by  white  horses,  and  accompanied  by  a  pro- 
cession with  songs  of  triumph  and  the  sound  of  trumpets.  Her 
death  was  a  fitting  end  of  her  life  of  unostentatious  and  fervent 
piety. 

The  limits  of  this  work  forbid  full  details  of  this 
interesting  pastorate.  Jeter's  characteristics  as  a 
pastor  and  his  general  usefulness  during  this  period 
of  his  life  will  come  under  review  in  later  chapters. 
I  must,  however,  briefly  mark  some  of  the  striking 
incidents  of  his  career  during  the  thirteen  years  of 
this  pastorate. 

Not  long  after  he  settled  in  Richmond  he  became 
convinced  that  his  church  needed  a  better  house  of 
worship.  He  was  a  man  of  simple  tastes  and  con- 
scientiously opposed  to  showy  and  extravagant 
church  buildings.     But  he  believed  in  the  fitness  of 


SETTLEMENT  IN  RICHMOND.  185 

things.  He  held  that  public  worship  ought  to  be 
rendered  attractive,  and  that  a  church  building  ought 
to  represent  creditably  the  piety  and  taste  of  those 
who  occupied  it.  The  old  building  was  badly  lo- 
cated, unsightly  in  appearance  and  inadequate  to  the 
necessities  of  the  congregation.  But  the  rage  for  fine 
houses  of  worship  was  not  so  great  then  as  now.  To 
the  slow  and  illiberal  portion  of  his  church  a  new 
house  did  not  seem  to  be  a  necessity.  It  was  indeed 
a  grave  undertaking"  to  purchase  an  expensive  lot  and 
to  erect  a  new  and  costly  house,  especially  as  it  was 
foreseen  that  they  would  realize  very  little  on  the 
old  building.  But  it  was  in  the  pastor's  heart  to 
build.  The  enterprise  took  possession  of  him,  and 
he  could  not  be  dissuaded.  It  was  not  simply  a  new 
house  for  which  he  was  pleading,  but  for  the  division 
of  the  church,  which  he  considered  as  indispensable 
to  its  highest  welfare.  All  the  conviction  and  en- 
thusiasm of  his  nature  centred  in  this  movement. 
He  was  never  an  obstinate  man,  but  his  earnestness 
was  so  intense  and  unyielding  that  with  many  it 
passed  for  obstinacy  of  the  worst  type.  What  he 
wanted  he  wanted  tremendously,  and  it  was  impos- 
sible to  control  him  until  he  got  it. 

Happily  there  was  in  the  church  a  progressive  and 
liberal  element  that  thoroughly  sympathized  with  his 
views.  After  several  years  of  tormenting  delays  the 
church  was  warmed  up  to  the  point  of  action,  and  the 
result  was  the  present  stately  and  elegant  building  at 
the  corner  of  Broad  and  Twelfth  Streets,  in  which  the 
church  still  worships.  Its  original  cost  was  $40,000, 
and  while  it  has  since  undergone  valuable  improve- 


186  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

ments,  it  was  then  one  of  the  most  convenient  and 
delightful  church  edifices  in  the  South.  It  was  com- 
pleted in  1841,  and  he  preached  in  it  for  eight 
years. 

He  never  claimed  any  credit  for  the  building  of 
that  house,  but  he  was  really  the  central  and  ani- 
mating force  in  the  movement.  A  heavy  debt  re- 
mained upon  the  house  for  several  years,  and  Brother 
A.  H.  Sands,  an  honored  Baptist  lawyer  and  min- 
ister of  Richmond,  says  that  for  its  liquidation  the 
church  was  largely  indebted  to  the  sagacity  and  prac- 
tical judgment  of  Dr.  Jeter. 

After  years  of  earnest  toil  his  hope  was  fulfilled. 
For  three  or  four  years  he  had  grappled  with  grievous 
obstacles,  and  often  grown  sick  of  heart  by  reason  of 
discouragements.  In  his  entire  life  he  never  wrought 
with  greater  singleness  of  purpose  or  with  more  un- 
remitting energy  for  any  object  than  he  did  for  the 
building  of  that  house.  And  now  it  stood  before  him 
complete  and  beautiful!  How  surpassingly  grand 
did  it  appear  to  his  eyes  !  With  what  throbbing  joy 
and  high  religious  exultation  did  he  lead  his  people 
out  of  the  dingy  old  house  on  the  hill-side  and  take 
them  up  to  dwell  in  the  new  temple ! 

There  is  something  contagious  in  genuine  enthusi- 
asm. A  deed  well  done  is  an  inspiration.  It  is 
worthy  of  note  that  the  completion  of  that  house  was 
soon  followed  by  the  erection  of  two  other  elegant 
Baptist  houses  of  worship  in  the  city — those  yet  oc- 
cupied by  the  Second  and  the  Grace  Street  Baptist 
Churches.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  if  the 
mother  church  had  led  the  way  with  a  cheap  and  in- 


SETTLEMENT   IN  RICHMOND.  187 

ferior  building,  her  daughters  would  likely  enough 
have  followed  her  example. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  belittle  the  work  which  has 
been  done  within  the  last  two  decades  for  the  religious 
elevation  of  the  freedmen  of  the  South.  In  no  sphere 
of  Christian  service  has  philanthropy  found  a  wider 
field  or  wrought  with  better  results.  If  its  methods 
have  not  always  been  wise,  and  if  at  times  its  spirit 
has  seemed  unamiable,  it  is  just  to  say  that  it  has 
evinced  rare  generosity  and  exhaustless  patience. 
For  all  that  has  been  done  for  the  colored  people 
since  their  emancipation  every  true  Southern  heart 
must  rejoice. 

But  let  the  truth  be  told.  It  is  an  egregious  mis- 
take to  suppose  that  the  colored  people  were  a  set 
of  heathen  in  the  times  of  slavery.  It  is  not  claimed 
that  they  were  educated  in  the  technical  sense  of  that 
word,  but  their  contact  with  the  white  people  was 
necessarily  constant  and  intimate,  and  as  a  result 
very  many  of  them  were  refined  and  intelligent.  I 
admit  that  not  all  was  done  for  their  religious  wel- 
fare that  the  gospel  required  of  their  masters. 

There  were  practical  difficulties  in  the  way  of  their 
evangelization  which  it  has  always  seemed  impossible 
for  an  outsider  to  understand.  There  were  social, 
political  and  ecclesiastical  hindrances  which  it  was 
hard  to  overcome.  That  any  Southern  Christian  did 
his  full  duty  for  the  enslaved  race  I  do  not  under- 
take to  assert.  Some  did  nothing,  and  others  prac- 
tically antagonized  all  movements  for  their  religious 
training,  under  the  mistaken  notion  that  it  might 
render  them  restless  and  seditious.     While  frankly 


188  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

admitting  this,  I  can  yet  say  in  truth  that  when  the 
shackles  of  bondage  were  broken  and  the  slaves  were 
suddenly  transformed  into  freedmen,  they  were  a 
Christianized  race. 

When  they  came  to  the  American  shores  they 
were  heathen  of  the  lowest  type — superstitious  and 
besotted  ;  but  when  by  the  violence  of  war  they  were 
suddenly  emancipated,  very  many  of  them  were 
Christians.  They  may  have  carried  out  with  them 
many  marks  of  servility,  but  they  took  with  them 
also  in  their  religious  knowledge  and  faith  the  un- 
mistakable evidences  of  the  fidelity  and  zeal  of  the 
Christian  people  of  the  South.  Many  of  them  were 
church  members,  and  not  a  few  of  them  well  versed 
in  the  doctrines  of  Christ  and  able  to  teach  others. 
That  which  has  been  done  for  them  since  their  eman- 
cipation is  not  to  be  despised.  It  is  a  good  work, 
and  let  God  be  praised  for  it ;  but  it  could  not  have 
been  done  so  soon  or  so  well  but  for  that  other  and 
oft-forgotten  work  which  had  already  been  done  for 
them. 

Nor  is  it  immodest  to  say  that  the  bulk  of  that 
Christian  education  which  the  enslaved  race  had  re- 
ceived was  derived  from  the  Baptists.  In  later  times 
it  has  become  common  to  say  that  the  negroes  are 
naturally  inclined  to  be  Baptists.  This  Baptists 
themselves  have  fallen  into  the  habit  of  saying,  and 
I  have  sometimes  suspected  that  other  denominations 
found  a  sort  of  complacent  pride  in  admitting  that 
the  native  bent  of  this  feeble  race  is  toward  the  Bap- 
tists. In  all  this  there  is  an  unthinking  confusion 
of  effect  with  cause.     The  negroes  incline  towards 


SETTLEMENT  IN  RICHMOND.  189 

the  Baptists  because  the  Baptists  have  all  the  while 
inclined  toward  them.  In  the  years  of  their  bond- 
age, when  other  denominations  stood  aloof,  the  Bap- 
tists were  their  friends. 

A  house  of  worship  was  rarely  ever  built  by  our 
people  that  did  not  include  accommodations  for  the 
colored  people.  At  every  Sunday  service  and  often 
during  the  week  they  were  present.  Our  ministers 
sometimes  directed  portions  of  their  sermons  especi- 
ally to  them,  and  services  were  frequently  held  for 
their  exclusive  benefit.  Their  masters,  for  the  most 
part,  were  not  Baptists,  but  none  the  less  faithfully 
on  that  account  did  our  fathers  work  for  their  sal- 
vation. 

As  a  result  of  this  steady  and  courageous  zeal  great 
numbers  of  the  slaves  were  converted  and  brought 
into  our  churches.  They  worshipped  in  the  same 
houses,  singing  the  same  songs,  uniting  in  the  same 
prayers,  hearing  the  same  sermons  and  sitting  down 
together  at  the  Lord's  table.  In  many  churches  they 
outnumbered  the  white  membership,  and  if  in  any- 
thing they  were  restricted  in  their  privileges,  the  re- 
striction was  due  far  more  to  the  laws  of  the  country 
and  the  social  difficulties  of  the  situation  than  to  any 
lack  of  Christian  affection  on  the  part  of  their  white 
brethren. 

The  days  of  slavery  are  over,  but  I  feel  constrained 
to  say  that  I  believe  that  our  Baptist  brethren  did 
about  the  best  that  they  could  under  all  the  circum- 
stances for  the  evangelization  of  the  negroes  while 
they  were  yet  slaves.  They,  at  least,  did  more  than 
all  other  Christian  people  put  together,  and  that,  too, 


190  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

when  they  were  not  great  in  numbers,  culture  or 
wealth. 

The  history  of  the  First  Baptist  Church  furnishes 
an  instructive  illustration  of  the  difficulties  with 
which  the  Baptists  had  to  contend  in  their  attempts 
to  give  the  gospel  to  the  negroes.  From  the  first 
they  were  admitted  to  membership,  and  when,  in 
1836,  Dr.  Jeter  assumed  charge  of  the  church,  they 
outnumbered  the  white  people  almost  five  to  one. 
The  situation  must  have  been  unsatisfactory  to  both 
races.  Each  greatly  preferred  to  be  alone,  and  the 
separation  was  a  necessity.  From  the  outset  Dr. 
Jeter  openly  favored  a  division.  He  insisted  that  the 
habits,  comfort  and  religious  progress  of  both  parties 
were  involved,  and  that  was  one  of  his  strongest  argu- 
ments used  in  advocacy  of  the  new  house  of  worship. 

But  there  were  obstacles.  Such  a  change  neces- 
sitated a  heavy  expenditure  of  money,  and  it  has 
never  yet  come  to  pass  that  any  religious  enterprise 
which  strongly  touched  the  financial  question  was 
brought  to  success  without  encountering  the  resists 
ance  of  the  covetous  and  narrow-minded.  There  were 
also  racial  prejudices  which  were  quick  to  resent 
every  attempt  to  invest  the  colored  brethren  with 
any  unusual  privileges.  There  were  legal  questions 
also  which  threatened  serious  complications  and 
needed  to  be  handled  with  the  utmost  tact  and  deli- 
cacy. Behind  all  this,  and  far  more  to  be  dreaded, 
was  that  combustible  and  dangerous  thing,  public 
sentiment,  which  suddenly  rose  in  opposition  to  the 
proposal  to  throw  the  colored  people  into  a  separate 
church  organization. 


SETTLEMENT  IN  RICHMOND.  191 

Di\  Jeter  was  yet  a  young  man,  and  knew  little  of 
the  habits  and  prejudices  of  city  people.  The  situa- 
tion was  extremely  delicate  and  called  for  the  highest 
qualities  of  leadership.  He  needed  discretion  and 
courage  in  about  equal  measures.  One  reckless  and 
ill-chosen  step  might  have  brought  incurable  disaster. 
It  is  the  testimony  of  those  who  watched  his  course 
that  he  evinced  a  caution,  strength  and  intrepidity 
which  surprised  even  those  who  knew  him  best.  He 
studied  carefully  the  legal  aspects  of  the  question,  and 
never  ventured  on  uncertain  ground.  He  conceded 
everything  that  could  be  yielded  with  safety.  He 
did  nothing  to  inflame  public  prejudice  and  refused 
to  be  drawn  into  controversies  on  doubtful  ques- 
tions. So  far  as  he  could,  he  identified  with  the 
movement  the  wise  and  strong  men  of  the  city. 

It  is  agreed  that  his  management  was  admirable. 
He  was  good-humored,  conciliatory,  and  so  manifestly 
anxious  to  do  only  what  was  right  that  his  opponents 
found  it  hard  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  him.  He  was 
so  well  posted  that  nobody  could  trip  or  balk  him. 
He  gained  an  advantage  here  and  carried  a  point 
there,  and  won  an  unexpected  victory  yonder,  until 
he  presently  became  the  master  of  the  field.  His 
people  became  proud  of  him  and  rallied  around  him. 
The  legal  experts  came  out  on  his  side ;  Christian 
brethren  of  other  names  stood  at  his  back  and 
encouraged  him,  and  the  business  men  of  the  city 
indicated  a  readiness  to  furnish  money  to  aid  his  en- 
terprise. 

The  result  was  more  than  a  victory.  He  not 
only  carried  the  point,  but  he  became  a  popular  hero. 


192  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

He  suddenly  arose  above  the  public  horizon  as  a 
man  of  high  intelligence,  far-seeing  sagacity  and  in- 
flexible determination.  There  are  aged  people  yet 
living  in  Richmond  who,  with  trembling  lip,  delight 
to  tell  how  handsomely  "Brother  Jeter"  bore  him- 
self in  those  exciting  times. 

In  the  simple  paper  which  is  now  presented  he 
touches  that  incident  in  his  life.  It  was  written 
many  years  after  the  event  had  occurred.  The 
smoke  of  the  battle  had  long  disappeared,  and  he 
writes  of  it  with  the  serene  composure  of  a  spectator. 
The  organization  of  that  church  was  a  great  event  in 
the  history  of  the  colored  people  in  Virginia.  It 
settled  many  doubtful  questions  and  opened  the  way 
for  other  and  similar  establishments.  Here  is  what 
he  has  to  say  about  it : 

THE    ORGANIZATION   OF  THE    FIRST   AFRICAN   CHURCH   TS  RICH- 
MOND. 

"When  I  came  to  Richmond  the  First  Church  contained  about 
two  thousand  colored  members,  and  the  number  was  considerably 
augmented  while  they  were  under  my  charge.  They  were  a 
heavy  burden  on  the  white  members  of  the  church.  Besides  the 
expense  of  providing  for  their  instruction,  much  time  and  labor 
were  devoted  to  the  exercise  of  discipline  among  them. 

There  were  several  important  reasons  for  organizing  them  into 
a  separate  and  independent  church.  The  space  allotted  for  their 
use  in  the  house  of  worship  was  utterly  insufficient  for  their  ac- 
commodation. The  style  of  preaching  demanded  by  the  white 
congregation  was  not  well  adapted  to  the  instruction  of  the  colored 
people.  Besides,  it  was  quite  impossible  for  the  pastor,  with  a 
large  white  congregation  under  his  care,  to  pay  much  attention 
to  the  necessities  of  the  colored  portion  of  his  flock.  A  pastor 
who  should  devote  his  whole  time,  or  the  chief  part  of  it,  to  their 
interests,  seemed  to  be  imperatively  demanded. 


SETTLEMENT  IN  RICHMOND.  193 

There  were,  however,  very  serious  difficulties  in  the  way  of 
organizing  a  colored  church.  A  house  of  worship,  of  no  incon- 
siderable extent,  would  be  needed  for  their  accommodation  ;  and 
the  means  of  procuring  it  could  not  be  easily  obtained.  There 
was,  however,  a  more  formidable  obstacle  to  the  enterprise  than 
the  lack  of  money.  Public  sentiment  was  opposed  to  it.  The 
unfortunate  Southampton  insurrection  had  led  to  the  enactment 
of  stringent  laws  in  regard  to  the  assembling  of  negroes  for  relig- 
ious worship  or  any  other  purpose.  They  were  forbidden  to  meet 
in  any  considerable  number,  except  in  the  presence  and  under 
the  supervision  of  white  persons.  The  Abolition  excitement  at 
the  North  was  producing  a  most  unpleasant  counter-excitement 
at  the  South.  All  efforts  for  ameliorating  the  condition  of  the 
slaves  were  opposed  by  many  on  the  ground  that  they  favored 
the  designs  of  the  Abolitionists.  Many  pious  people  looked  with 
distrust,  if  not  with  hostility,  on  all  new  measures  for  the  religious 
instruction  of  the  negroes.  All  classes  of  irreligious  persons — 
skeptics,  gamblers,  bar-keepers,  and  the  like,  of  whom  Richmond, 
at  that  time,  had  her  full  share — were  bitter  and  fierce  in  their 
opposition  to  the  proposed  organization.  They  were  hostile,  in- 
deed, to  all  religion ;  but,  as  the  white  churches  were  too  well 
fortified  by  public  sentiment  to  be  safely  attacked,  they  concen- 
trated their  opposition  against  the  proposed  African  church,  and 
appealed  to  the  fears  excited  by  the  recent  insurrection,  and  to 
the  feeling  of  indignation  prevailing  against  the  Abolitionists,  to 
prevent  the  execution  of  the  scheme. 

The  Church,  after  much  anxious  consultation,  resolved  to  pur- 
chase a  lot,  build  a  new  house,  and  make  arrangements  for  the 
exclusive  occupancy  of  the  old  house  by  the  colored  portion  of 
the  church.  To  this  resolution  we  are  indebted  for  the  spacious 
and  solid  building  now  known  as  the  First  Baptist  Church,  at  the 
corner  of  Broad  and  Twelfth  Streets,  and  for  the  still  more  capa- 
cious edifice,  called  the  First  African  Church,  standing  on  the 
ground  long  occupied  by  the  old  and  venerable  Baptist  Church, 
in  which  sat,  for  a  time,  the  distinguished  Convention  of  1829-30, 
which  remodeled  the  State  Constitution,  and  on  whose  floor  were 
laid  the  dead  and  dying  at  the  time  of  the  memorable  conflagra- 
tion of  the  theatre.     The  new  house  was  built  by  great  exertions 

13 


194  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

and  great  sacrifices,  in  which  the  noble  sisters  bore  a  conspicuous 
part.  Deacons  James  Sizer  and  Archibald  Thomas,  by  their  lib- 
erality and  their  personal  attentions,  contributed  largely  to  the 
completion  and  excellent  arrangements  of  the  building.  It  is 
proper,  too,  to  say  that  to  Mr.  James  Thomas,  Jr.,  then  just  com- 
mencing his  successful  financial  career,  more  than  to  any  other 
man,  living  or  dead,  have  the  colored  people  been  indebted  for 
the  valuable  house  which  they  long  occupied,  and  which  has 
been  succeeded  by  their  present  edifice,  undoubtedly  the  largest 
house  of  worship  in  the  State.  The  old  house  and  lot  were  valued 
by  impartial  judges ;  the  church  made  a  contribution  of  three 
thousand  dollars  to  secure  the  property  for  the  use  of  the  colored 
people,  and  the  owners  of  slaves  were  solicited  to  aid  in  the  enter- 
prise. The  personal  application  to  them  for  help  was  assigned  to 
Mr.  Thomas ;  and  right  nobly  and  most  successfully  did  he  perform 
his  task.  His  acquaintance  with  the  tobacco  merchants  and 
manufacturers  gave  him  advantages  for  the  work  which  few  pos- 
sessed, and  which  only  he  was  willing  to  employ. 

The  African  Church  was  organized  in  the  year  1842.  Many 
difficulties  had  to  be  obviated  in  its  organization.  It  was  deemed 
wise  to  conform  the  church  to  the  State  laws  and  the  municipal 
regulations.  Its  meetings  were  held  only  in  the  day-{ime,  and  in 
the  presence  of  white  persons.  The  discipline  of  the  church  was 
lodged  in  their  own  hands ;  but,  owing  to  their  inexperience  in 
ecclesiastical  government,  it  was  deemed  better  that  an  appeal 
should  be  granted  to  aggrieved  members  to  a  strong  white  com- 
mittee appointed  by  the  mother  church — a  privilege  which  was 
probably  never  exercised.  The  law  required  that  the  religious 
instructor  should  be  a  white  man ;  but  if  there  had  been  no 
such  restriction,  it  would  probably  have  been  impossible  to  find  a 
colored  man  suited  for  the  office. 

After  some  delay  and  much  earnest  inquiry,  Rev.  Robert  Ry- 
land,  President  of  Richmond  College,  was  elected  to  the  office. 
His  official  duties  were  not  onerous,  and  as  his  afternoons,  Satur- 
days and  Sundays  were  unoccupied,  and  the  pastorate  would 
make  no  great  draft  on  his  intellectual  powers,  he  was  unani- 
mously selected  for  the  important  post.  Of  all  men,  he  was  best 
suited  for  it.     Deriving  his  support  from  his  college  services,  he 


SETTLEMENT  IN  RICHMOND.  195 

demanded  but  a  small  salary  of  the  church,  and  that  he  devoted 
to  the  promotion  of  their  interests.  The  colored  people  were 
emotional,  fond  of  excitement,  and  would  have  been  pleased  with 
a  declamatory  and  superficial  preacher.  Dr.  Ryland — not  then 
Doctor,  but  he  soon  received  the  title — was  an  eminently  plain, 
instructive  and  practical  preacher,  dealing  chiefly  with  the  con- 
science rather  than  the  passions.  His  aim  was  to  make  his 
hearers  think  rather  than  to  feel,  and  to  act  rather  than  to 
speculate.  His  ministry  was  precisely  adapted  to  correct  the 
errors  and  to  repress  the  extravagances  into  which  his  hearers 
were  prone  to  run. 

The  pastorate  of  Dr.  Ryland  was  eminently  successful.  The 
colored  people  soon  became  convinced  that  he  was  their  sincere 
friend,  seeking  not  theirs  but  them,  and  endeavoring  by  all 
means  to  promote  their  best  interests.  Great  numbers  were  con- 
verted by  his  ministry  and  baptized  by  him.  He  stated  that- 
other  pastors  had  difficulty  in  persuading  their  hearers  to  be 
baptized,  but  that  his  greatest  trouble  was  to  prevent  his  hearers 
from  being  baptized  prematurely.  He  continued  his  labors 
among  his  flock  until,  at  the  close  of  the  late  war,  when  the 
negroes  were  freed,  our  social  and  civil  institutions  were  over- 
thrown, and  it  was  supposed  by  those  who  assumed  to  be  the 
leaders  of  the  colored  people,  that  they  needed  a  pastor  more  in 
sympathy  with  the  new  order  of  things ;  and  the  doctor  quietly 
retired  from  the  post  which  he  had  so  long  and  so  usefully  filled. 
Multitudes  of  negroes  here  remember  the  faithful  and  disinter- 
ested labors  of  their  old  pastor  with  profound  gratitude,  and 
hold  his  name  in  the  highest  veneration. 

The  labors  of  Dr.  Ryland  contributed  largely  to  the  almost 
unparalleled  religious  prosperity  of  the  colored  people  in  this 
city.  They  have  five  large  houses  of  worship  and  a  membership 
of  over  thirteen  thousand  ;  this  number,  however,  is  nominal 
rather  than  exact.  It  is  not  possible  for  the  churches,  in  the 
homeless  condition  and  with  the  migratory  habits  of  their  mem- 
bers, to  keep  exact  registers  of  them.  Still  they  approximate 
the  number  stated ;  and  their  progress  in  knowledge  and  effi- 
ciency is  truly  remarkable  and  gratifying.  The  organization  of 
the  First  African  Church  marks  an  era  in  the  history  of  the 


196  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

evangelization  of  the  colored  people  in  this  city.  It  may  be 
proper  to  state  that  there  were  prosperous  African  Churches  in 
Norfolk  and  Petersburg,  and  perhaps  other  places,  before  one 
was  formed  here. 

The  reader  may  desire  to  know  what  was  the  result  of  the  op- 
position to  the  organization  of  the  African  Church.  It  led  to  no 
violence,  but  continued  for  years  to  display  itself  in  constant 
watching  for  violations  of  the  laws,  complaints  and  reproaches. 
The  high  character  of  Dr.  Ryland,  and  his  prudent  course,  grad- 
ually, among  all  pious,  and  even  considerate,  people,  quelled 
opposition  and  secured  their  confidence  in  the  wisdom  and  use- 
fulness of  the  measure.  Attempts  were  made  to  have  its  active 
supporters  indicted  by  the  grand  jury,  but  they  failed. 

I  desire  to  repeat  a  fact  in  honor  of  Rev.  William  S.  Plumer, 
which  I  have  several  times  published.  While  the  formation  of 
the  African  Church  was  in  contemplation,  as  I  was  desirous  to 
have  the  sympathy  and  countenance  of  the  Protestant  pastors  in 
the  enterprise,  I  consulted  some  of  them  on  the  subject,  and  was 
advised  to  call  a  meeting  of  the  clergy  and  ask  their  advice. 
When  I  mentioned  the  matter  to  Dr.  Plumer,  then  pastor  of  the 
First  Presbyterian  Church  of  the  city,  and  a  very  popular 
preacher,  he  said  :  "  Don't  do  it.  The  clergy  may  decide  against 
your  plan;  but  it  is  right — the  law  is  in  your  favor — go  forward 
in  the  work,  and  if  you  have  trouble,  I  will  stand  by  you." 
When  he  heard  that  an  effort  was  being  made  to  secure  an  in- 
dictment from  the  grand  jury  against  the  persons  who  had  the 
meetings  of  the  church  in  charge,  the  Doctor  came  to  me  and 
said :  "  I  wish  you  to  understand  that,  in  any  difficulties  you  may 
have  concerning  the  African  Church,  I  am  to  go  halves  with 
vou."  It  was  a  noble  offer,  and  as  honest  and  firm  as  it  was 
noble.  There  were  other  ministers,  I  had  reason  to  suspect,  who 
would,  from  sectarian  influence,  have  been  quite  pleased  if  the 
enterprise  had  ended  in  defeat  and  reproach. 

Not  long  after  Dr.  Jeter  went  to  Richmond  the 
Christian  ministers  of  the  city  felt  constrained  to 
make  an  open  declaration  of  war  against  the  theatre. 
Its  exhibitions  had  become  deadly  offensive  to  the 


SETTLEMENT  IN   RICHMOND.  197 

refinement  and  the  virtue  of  the  community,  and 
the  pastors  felt  that  it  became  them  to  lift  their 
voices  against  the  popular  evil.  To  Dr.  W.  S. 
Plumer,  an  eminent  Presbyterian  minister,  Dr.  Jeter 
awards  the  honor  of  having  opened  the  battle.  He 
preached  a  sermon  in  which  he  powerfully  exposed 
the  corrupting  influences  of  the  stage,  and  warned 
his  people  against  it.  He  was  followed  by  Dr.  W. 
A.  Smith,  of  the  Trinity  Methodist  Church,  and  Dr. 
Woodbridge,  of  the  Monumental  Episcopal  Church, 
both  of  whom  struck  valiant  blows  for  virtue  and 
religion.  Dr.  Jeter  joined  this  holy  crusade  with  all 
heartiness,  and  I  present  here  the  account  of  the  part 
which  he  took  : 

Of  my  own  sermon  on  the  subject,  as  I  remember  it  more 
distinctly,  I  may  be  indulged  in  giving  a  fuller  account.  It  was 
the  second  in  the  series,  and  delivered  on  a  Sunday  evening,  in 
the  old  First  Baptist  Church,  on  the  spot  now  occupied  by  the 
First  African,  crowded  to  its  utmost  capacity.  My  text  was  1 
Thess.  v.  22 :  "  Abstain  from  all  appearance  of  evil."  After  a 
brief  exposition  of  the  text,  I  attempted  to  show  that  theatrical 
entertainments  have  been  condemned  by  great  numbers  of  the 
wisest  and  best  men  of  every  age — that  they  are  an  amusement 
utterly  worthless  to  society — that  they  involve  an  enormous  and 
unjustifiable  expenditure  of  money — that  they  have  a  strong 
tendency  to  deterioration — that  they  are  manifestly  of  demoral- 
izing influence — and  that  they  tend  to  the  subversion  of  national 
prosperity  and  independence.  The  effect  of  my  sermon  was 
greatly  increased  by  a  reminiscence — whether  impromptu  or 
premeditated  I  cannot  now  say — with  a  reference  to  which  I 
closed  my  discourse.  At  the  burning  of  the  theatre,  the  dead,  the 
dying  and  suffering  were  laid  upon  the  floor  of  the  church  in 
which  I  was  speaking.  Its  walls  had  reverberated  with  the 
groans  of  the  dying  and  the  screams  of  the  afflicted  from  the  well- 
remembered  theatrical  catastrophe.     The  very  floor  occupied  by 


198  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

the  crowded  audience  had  been  stained  with  the  blood  of  the  un- 
fortunate devotees  of  the  bewitching  amusement.  I  made  such 
use  as  I  could  of  these  startling  facts  to  dissuade  my  hearers  from 
attending  theatres.  It  was  no  proof  of  my  power  as  a  speaker 
that  facts  so  solemn  and  so  pertinent  to  the  occasion,  brought 
suddenly  to  the  attention  of  the  hearers,  produced  a  deep  impres- 
sion. Of  the  merits  of  the  sermon  I  need  not  speak.  In  a  few 
days  after  its  delivery  I  was  requested  by  a  number  of  gentlemen, 
among  whom  were  several  prominent  members  of  the  Legislature, 
to  furnish  a  copy  of  it  for  publication.  It  had  been  preached  from 
not  very  copious  notes ;  but  I  reduced  it  to  writing,  and  a  large 
edition  of  it  was  promptly  printed  and  widely  circulated,  not  a 
copy  of  which  is  now  within  my  reach. 

The  managers  of  the  theatre  resolved  to  retaliate  on  the  par- 
sons. A  play  was  selected  or  prepared  as  a  burlesque  on  the  ser- 
mons which  had  been  preached  against  theatrical  entertainments. 
I  had  often  expressed  my  pleasure  that  a  pun  could  not  be  made 
on  my  name ;  but  I  had  no  expectation  of  having  the  practical 
advantage  of  it  which  I  experienced  on  this  occasion.  In  the 
notice  of  the  retaliatory  play  the  names  of  the  preachers — Plumer 
(plumber),  Smith  and  Woodbridge,  in  their  common  acceptation 
— were  ingeniously  wrought,  printed  in  large  capitals,  and  posted 
all  over  the  city,  to  the  amusement  of  many.  My  name,  having 
no  meaning  in  English,  was  omitted  in  the  burlesque.  Possibly 
I  may  attribute  to  the  lack  of  meaning  in  my  name  what  was  due 
to  its  want  of  importance. 

Many  years  have  passed  since  the  war  on  the  theatre,  and  it 
may  be  quite  natural  to  inquire  whether  time  and  observation 
have  wrought  any  change  in  my  views  of  theatrical  amusements. 
There  were  arguments  and  statements  in  my  sermon  which,  if  I 
were  to  deliver  it  now,  I  should  deem  it  proper  to  modify ;  but  as 
to  the  injurious  influence  of  theatrical  entertainments,  my  views 
have  undergone  no  change.  There  is  no  evil  in  writing,  reading 
or  acting  plays,  provided  they  are  of  good  moral  tendency ;  but 
theatres,  as  they  are  commonly  conducted,  are  of  demoralizing 
influence.  Early  convinced  on  this  point,  I  have  never  attended 
a  theatrical  exhibition.  I  am,  therefore,  entirely  dependent  on 
the  testimony  of  others  for  my  opinion  on  this  subject.     I  know 


SETTLEMENT   IN   RICHMOND.  199 

how  liable  men's  minds  are  to  be  warped  by  their  tastes,  training 
and  associations.  It  would  be  easy  to  find  witnesses  of  equal  in- 
telligence and  candor  on  both  sides  of  this  question.  I  have,  how- 
ever, found  the  most  satisfactory  testimony  on  the  subject  where 
I  least  expected  to  obtain  it. 

Dr.  Jeter  was  a  strong  believer  in  protracted  meet- 
ings. It  was  one  of  his  rules  as  a  pastor  to  hold  a 
series  of  meetings  every  year.  He  looked  upon 
them  as  harvest  seasons,  helpful  to  his  people  and 
peculiarly  effective  in  reaching  the  unconverted. 

But  he  was  never  willing  to  conduct  his  meetings 
without  ministerial  aid.  He  preferred  the  help  of 
some  neighboring  pastor,  but  he  had  great  respect 
for  evangelists,  and  gladly  availed  himself  of  their 
services  whenever  he  could.  The  most  fruitful 
meeting  which  he  held  during  his  First  Church  pas- 
torate was  that  in  which  he  was  assisted  by  Israel 
Robords,  a  successful  and  noted  evangelist  in  his 
day. 

This  meeting  occurred  in  1842.  It  was  a  season 
of  unprecedented  religious  interest  in  Richmond. 
In  speaking  of  it  Rev.  A.  H.  Sands  says :  "  My 
earliest  experience  in  Richmond  in  1842  was  the 
continual  ringing  of  the  church  bells,  calling  the 
people  to  the  churches  almost  every  night  in  the 
week.  I  have  often  heard  Dr.  Jeter  speak  of  the 
revival  of  1832,  when  multitudes  were  gathered  into 
the  churches,  in  country  and  city.  I  was  not  old 
enough  to  remember  them,  but  if  they  were  richer 
than  those  of  1842,  happy  were  the  people  who 
passed  through  them."  This  remark  reminds  me 
that  I  once  heard   Dr.  Jeter  say  that  the  revival 


200  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

spirit  of  1832  was  so  widespread  and  overwhelming 
that  many  persons  really  believed  that  the  millen- 
nium was  at  hand.  During  a  great  revival  which 
occurred  in  Richmond  in  the  autumn  of  1875,  in  the 
Grace  Street  Church,  Dr.  Jeter  said  that  it  was  un- 
excelled by  anything  he  had  ever  witnessed  in  Rich- 
mond, except  the  meeting  in  1842.  It  was  during  the 
last-named  revival  that  he  baptized  Rev.  A.  H. 
Sands,  to  whom  I  owe  special  thanks  for  valuable 
help  rendered  me  in  this  book. 

Of  that  great  awakening  in  1842,  Dr.  Jeter  fur- 
nishes the  following  account : 

A    GREAT   REVIVAL. 

The  year  1842  was  distinguished  by  a  religious  revival  in  the 
city  of  Richmond  of  unusual  power,  extent  and  interest.  It  com- 
menced in  the  First  Presbyterian  Church,  under  the  ministry  of 
Rev.  Wm.  S.  Plumer,  D.D.  About  the  first  of  March  I  visited 
Portsmouth,  Va.,  where  I  met  Rev.  Israel  Robords.  He  was  a 
Northern  evangelist,  who  had  spent  the  preceding  winter  in  the 
South,  partly  to  recruit  his  health  and  partly  to  follow  his  voca- 
tion. Hearing  him  preach  once  or  twice,  I  was  pleased  with  his 
preaching,  and  invited  him  to  accompany  me  to  Richmond  and 
aid  me  in  a  protracted  meeting.  He  was,  in  some  respects,  among 
the  most  remarkable  preachers  whom  I  have  heard.  He  was 
probably  forty-five  years  old,  tall,  lean,  of  an  unhealthy  com- 
plexion, and  rather  ill-favored.  He  gained  nothing  from  his 
personal  appearance.  His  education  was  limited,  but  he  had  a 
sharp  intellect,  and  was  well-informed,  especially  on  religious  sub- 
jects. He  was  not  an  orator,  but  his  thoughts  were  quite  original, 
and  were  expressed  in  a  clear,  nervous  style,  sometimes  quite  or- 
nate, and  even  sublime.  His  discourses  derived  little  advantage 
either  from  his  voice  or  his  gestures.  He  had  most  extraordinary 
power  in  dealing  with  the  consciences  of  men.  He  seemed  to  have 
an  almost  perfect  knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  and  to  be  able 
to  lay  bare  its  motives,  its  propensities,  and  its  self-deceptions. 


SETTLEMENT   IN   RICHMOND.  201 

People  were  afraid  to  hear  him,  lest  he  should  expose  their  secret 
wickedness.  He  was  terrible  in  his  denunciations  of  all  kinds 
of  vice. 

Elder  Robords  commenced  his  labors  before  a  small  congrega- 
tion in  the  lecture-room  of  the  First  Baptist  Church.  Scarcely 
any  preacher  was  ever  heard  with  such  varying  views  and  feel- 
ings. Some  were  pleased,  others  were  disgusted,  many  were 
amused,  and  not  a  few  were  in  doubt  as  to  the  usefulness  of  his 
eccentric  sermon  ;  but  all  wished  to  hear  him  again.  His  congre- 
gations rapidly  increased,  until  the  spacious  audience-room  of  the 
church  was  crowded.  His  preaching  gave  great  offence  to  many  ; 
but  while  he  displeased  some  classes  of  his  hearers,  he  conciliated 
others.  Against  his  caustic  delineations  of  vice,  he  set  over  many 
handsome  compliments  to  the  better  portions  of  society.  The 
effects  of  his  ministry  were  various  and  surprising.  Under  his 
fierce  denunciations  of  sin  many  writhed  and  went  away  to  ridi- 
cule and  blaspheme.  In  the  art  of  reproving  I  have  never  known 
him  excelled.  I  well  remember  one  notable  instance  of  his  em- 
ploying this  art.  He  was  preaching  in  the  First  Church  to  a 
crowded  audience,  and  was  making  pretty  severe  remarks  against 
some  vice  or  error,  when  three  or  four  men  in  the  gallery,  near 
the  pulpit,  took  offence  and  resolved  to  show  their  indignation. 
They  rose  from  their  seats,  and  walking  slowly  towards  the  point 
of  egress  from  the  gallery,  stamped  loudly  as  they  went.  All  eyes 
were  drawn  towards  them.  The  preacher  stopped,  and,  looking 
calmly  at  the  retreating  auditors,  said  :  "  Being  convicted  by  their 
own  conscience,  they  went  out  one  by  one," — the  last  word  falling 
on  the  ears  of  the  offended  critics  as  they  escaped  from  the  room. 
The  speaker  resumed  his  discourse  as  if  nothing  had  occurred.  I 
have  never  seen  a  Southern  audience,  in  a  religious  meeting,  come 
so  near  to  indulging  in  open  applause  as  on  that  occasion.  By 
his  searching  appeals  not  a  few  were  awakened,  melted  into  tears 
and  brought  to  sincere  repentance.  .  The  members  of  the  church 
were  thoroughly  aroused  to  a  sense  of  their  obligations,  and  stimu- 
lated to  make  earnest  efforts  for  the  salvation  of  sinners.  It  was 
really  amusing  to  see  how  some  of  the  brethren  were  at  first  dis- 
gusted, then  offended,  and  afterwards  conciliated  and  brought  into 
harmony  and  co-operation  with  the  evangelist. 


202  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Elder  Robords  continued  his  labors  in  the  city,  preaching  twice 
a  day,  and  attending  an  inquiry  meeting  in  the  afternoon,  for 
about  three  weeks,  in  the  First  and  Second  Baptist  Churches,  and 
then  left  to  fill  an  engagement  in  Baltimore.  The  meetings  were 
kept  up  with  unabated  or  even  increasing  interest  in  the  First, 
Second  and  Third — then  the  only  white  Baptist  Churches  in  the 
city.  The  pastors,  Magoon,  Taylor  and  myself,  were  aided  by 
such  ministers  as  we  could  secure  from  the  country — among 
whom  were  Elder  Jesse  Witt,  of  Powhatan  County ;  Elder  Jos. 
Walker,  of  Hampton ;  and  Elder  Thomas  W.  Sydnor,  of  Not- 
toway. 

After  some  weeks  Elder  Robords  returned  to  the  city  and  re- 
sumed his  labors.  He  did  not,  however,  regain  his  power. 
He  preached  most  of  the  time  in  the  Second  and  Third  (now 
Grace  Street)  Churches,  and  had  large  congregations ;  but  it  was 
questionable  whether  his  second  visit  was  of  advantage  to  the 
cause.  In  a  short  while  he  left,  carrying  with  him  the  confi- 
dence, love  and  best  wishes  of  many  for  his  welfare,  and  the  dis- 
approbation, if  not,  indeed,  the  downright  hatred,  of  not  a  few. 

The  meetings,  with  more  or  less  frequency,  were  continued  in 
the  churches  until  the  middle  of  the  summer.  Nearly  400  mem- 
bers were  added  to  the  white  Baptist  Churches.  Of  this  number, 
about  170  were  admitted  into  the  First  Baptist  Church — many  of 
whom  were  heads  of  families,  men  of  business  and  influence,  who 
added  greatly  to  its  strength  and  efficiency.  What  was  true  of  the 
First  was  doubtless  true  of  the  other  Baptist  Churches.  The  First 
African  Church,  under  the  ministry  of  Dr.  Ryland,  received  large 
accessions,  probably  equalling  in  number  those  added  to  the  white 
churches. 

The  revival  was  by  no  means  limited  to  the  Baptist  Churches. 
Commencing  in  the  First  Presbyterian  Church,  it  spread  into  all 
the  evangelical  churches  of  the  city.  I  have  no  means  of  esti- 
mating the  number  of  converts  in  the  city,  but  it  could  hardly 
have  been  less  than  1500,  in  a  population  of  possibly  30,000. 
Two  or  three  things  are  worthy  of  special  notice.  An  unusually 
laro-e  number  of  the  converts  were  immersed.  Dr.  Waller,  a 
Methodist  pastor,  baptized  seventeen  candidates  at  one  time  in  the 
James  River,  just  below  Haxall's  Mill ;  and  he  administered  the 


SETTLEMENT  IN  RICHMOND.  203 

ordinance  with  due  solemnity,  and  some  awkwardness  arising 
from  inexperience.  A  Unitarian-Universalist  Church  then  in  the 
city  held  what  Mr.  Robords  said  he  had  never  heard  of  before 
since  he  had  "  breath  and  being  " — a  protracted  meeting,  and  im- 
mersed a  portion,  at  least,  of  their  proselytes  in  the  James  River. 
On  the  whole,  I  have  never  seen  in  the  city  of  Richmond  a  revival 
which,  in  its  extent  and  results,  equaled  that  of  1842. 

Near  the  close  of  the  special  religious  services  there  came  to  my 
study  a  stranger,  probably  thirty  years  old,  of  the  ordinary  size, 
of  ruddy  complexion,  of  genteel  appearance,  and  with  a  Scotch 
brogue.  He  had  just  crossed  the  Atlantic  in  a  sailing  vessel  and 
reached  our  port.  He,  after  a  brief  introduction,  gave  this  account 
of  himself.  He  was  a  Presbyterian  minister,  educated  and  or- 
dained in  Scotland.  He  settled  in  the  city  of  Lincoln,  England, 
not  far  from  the  Scottish  border,  as  pastor  of  an  Independent 
church.  Here  he  was  succeeding  pleasantly  until  an  event  oc- 
curred to  disturb  his  equanimity.  The  Scotch  Presbyterians  bap- 
tize infants  only  when  one  or  the  other  of  their  parents  is  a  church 
member.  The  English  Independents,  on  the  other  hand,  baptize 
infants  regardless  of  the  moral  character  or  relations  of  their 
parents.  When  infants  of  persons  not  members  of  a  church  were 
brought  to  him  for  baptism,  he  hesitated  to  administer  the  rite ; 
but  being  informed  that  custom  and  church  authority  required  it, 
he  performed  the  service  with  painful  doubts  of  its  propriety.  At 
length  a  child  of  parents  notoriously  depraved  was  presented  to 
him  for  baptism.  His  conscience  revolted  at  the  act,  and  he  re- 
solved not  to  perform  it.  Being  assured  that  the  refusal  would 
involve  him  in  ecclesiastical  troubles,  he  resigned  his  charge  and 
made  arrangements  to  emigrate  to  America.  He  secured  the 
most  satisfactory  testimonials  of  his  piety  and  good  standing  as  a 
minister,  several  of  which  were  from  persons  whose  fame  was 
well-known  in  this  country,  and  finding  a  ship  about  to  sail  for 
Virginia,  he  took  passage  on  it  and  safely  reached  our  shore. 

An  important  change  took  place  in  his  views  on  his  voyage. 
Having  his  Greek  Testament  and  Lexicon,  and  other  helps  for 
learning  the  will  of  God,  he  determined  to  settle  in  his  mind  the 
question  whether  baptism  should  be  limited  to  the  infants  of 
church  members  or  extended  to  all  infants.     Having  left  his  na- 


204  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

tive  land  and  passed  beyond  all  ecclesiastical  control,  he  was  at 
liberty  to  study  the  subject  with  the  simple  desire  to  arrive  at  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth.  He  soon  became  convinced  that  there 
was  precisely  as  much  Scriptural  authority  for  the  baptism  of  the 
infants  of  the  ungodly  as  for  those  of  church  members :  in  short, 
that  there  was  no  warrant  from  Scriptural  precept,  example  or 
fair  inference  for  the  baptism  of  either  class  of  infants.  Rejecting 
infant  baptism,  he  had  no  difficulty  in  accepting  immersion  as  the 
true  baptism.  His  Greek  Testament  and  Lexicon  furnished  him 
ample  testimony  on  that  point.  When  he  reached  the  waters  of 
Virginia  he  was  confirmed  in  distinctive  Baptist  principles.  At 
the  earliest  opportunity  he  appeared  before  the  First  Baptist 
Church  as  an  applicant  for  baptism  and  membership.  His  expe- 
rience and  testimonials  were  entirely  satisfactory,  and  he  was  bap- 
tized, received  into  the  church,  and  at  the  first  convenient  oppor- 
tunity he  publicly  stated,  in  a  convincing  and  impressive  manner, 
his  reasons  for  changing  his  ecclesiastical  relations.  He  was  soon 
licensed  to  preach,  and  entered  on  a  bright  career  of  usefulness, 
which,  unfortunately,  proved  to  be  short. 

This   man   was   Rev.    Duncan   R.  Campbell,  D.D.,   the   late 
lamented  president  of  Georgetown  College,  Kentucky. 

Several  years  after  Robords'  meeting  Dr.  Jeter 
called  to  his  assistance  another  evangelist,  who  at 
that  time  was  at  the  high  point  of  his  career.  That 
man  was  Elder  Jacob  Knapp.  I  believe  that  those 
who  knew  Mr.  Knapp  intimately  never  seriously 
questioned  his  piety.  Some  of  his  methods  and 
idiosyncrasies  fell  under  severe  criticism.  Magnetic 
and  courageous  he  evidently  was,  but  he  lacked 
poise  and  discretion.  Had  he  been  a  wiser  man  he 
would  not  have  accepted  the  invitation,  or  having 
accepted  it,  he  would  not  have  acted  as  he  did. 
This  the  reader  will  be  forced  to  believe  after  study- 
ing Dr.  Jeter's  article,  which  appears  below.  The 
paper  is  really  worthy  of  study,  not  for  any  special 


SETTLEMENT   IN  RICHMOND.  205 

historic  interest,  but  for  the  candid  and  kindly  spirit 
which  it  so  finely  illustrates  in  its  author.  I  would 
not  wantonly  wound  the  fame  of  Mr.  Knapp,  and 
yet  I  feel  constrained  to  observe  that  when  brought 
into  contrast  with  him,  Dr.  Jeter  appears  to  great 
advantage. 

KNAPP'S  VISIT  TO  RICHMOND. 

Elder  Jacob  Knapp  was  the  most  eminent  American  evangelist 
of  his  day,  certainly  among  Baptists.  He  had  gained  a  great  repu- 
tation at  the  South  by  the  results  of  meetings  •which  he  held  in 
Baltimore  some  time  about  1840.  The  Baptists  of  that  city  were 
few  and  feeble,  their  progress  having  been  greatly  hindered  by 
Antinomian  views,  prevalent  in  some  of  the  churches.  The  visit  of 
Elder  Knapp  to  the  city  was  most  opportune.  Large  crowds  at- 
tended on  his  ministry,  deep  and  wide-spread  impressions  were 
caused  by  it,  and  large  accessions  were  made  to  the  Baptist 
Churches.  It  was  a  new  era  for  the  Baptists  of  Baltimore.  An 
addition  of  five  hundred  members — many  of  them  wealthy  and 
respectable — was  made  to  their  ranks. 

A  few  years  afterwards  Knapp  was  invited  to  labor  with  the 
Baptist  Churches  in  Washington,  D.  C.  His  success  here  was 
good,  but  not  comparable  in  extent  to  that  of  his  Baltimore  meet- 
ings. His  contiguity  to  Richmond,  at  a  time  when  our  churches 
needed  reviving,  led  to  the  inquiry  whether  it  would  be  wise  to 
request  him  to  hold  meetings  here.  There  were  serious  objections 
to  the  measure.  Chief  among  these  was  the  fact  that  he  was  an 
outspoken  and,  as  was  supposed,  not  very  prudent,  Abolitionist. 
At  that  time  there  was  no  little  excitement  in  the  country  on  the 
subject  of  slavery,  and  the  public  mind  in  Richmond  was  in  no 
frame  to  listen  even  to  a  candid  discussion  of  it,  and  was  ready  to 
break  out  into  violence  upon  any  indiscreet  interference  with  it. 
Most  of  the  Baptists  desired  that  he  should  come,  if  they  could  be 
assured  that  he  would  act  cautiously  on  the  vexing  subject  of 
slavery,  but  many  feared  that  he  might  do  more  harm  by  indis- 
cretion than  he  would  do  good  by  his  preaching. 

Under  these  circumstances,  Deacon  A.  Thomas,  who  was  anx- 
ious that  Knapp  should  visit  Richmond,  and  myself  were  requested 


206  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

to  go  to  Washington  City  and  have  an  interview  with  him.  We 
called  on  him  and  assured  him  that  the  brethren  desired  him  to 
visit  Richmond,  but  told  him  plainly  that  any  efforts  on  his  part 
to  discuss  the  subject  of  slavery  while  it  might  be  endured,  would 
certainly  preclude  the  possibility  of  his  usefulness.  He  was  ex- 
ceedingly chary  in  his  conversation.  He  positively  declined  to 
give  any  assurance  that  he  would  not  preach  on  the  subject  of 
slavery,  and  we  as  positively  told  him  that  we  did  not  wish  his 
services,  if  he  would  not  refrain  from  its  discussion.  With  this 
understanding  of  the  case,  without  any  pledge  on  his  part,  he  ac- 
cepted the  invitation  to  hold  meetings  in  Richmond. 

In  a  short  time,  Elder  Knapp,  accompanied  by  Mrs.  Knapp, 
made  his  appearance  in  this  city.  He  was  then  probably  fifty 
years  old,  short  of  stature,  thick,  with  strong  Dutch  features.  He 
commenced  his  labors,  under  some  respects  favorable,  and  under 
other  respects  unfavorable.  The  Baptists  were  united  in  his  sup- 
port, and  intensely  anxious  for  his  success.  The  Anti- Abolition 
and  skeptical  spirit  were  combined  against  him,  and  ready  to 
avail  themselves  of  any  indiscreet  remark  which  he  might  utter, 
or  any  imprudent  step  which  he  might  make  to  hinder  his  useful- 
ness and  cast  reproach  on  the  meetings. 

Knapp  began  his  preaching  in  the  First  Baptist  Church.  His 
success  in  Baltimore  insured  him  large  congregations  from  the 
beginning.  The  services  proceeded  several  days  in  the  most  sat- 
isfactory and  encouraging  manner.  At  length,  however,  some 
remark  on  the  subject  of  slavery,  as  it  seemed  to  us,  needlessly 
thrown  into  the  discourse,  served  to  fill  the  brethren  with  the  ap- 
prehension of  his  imprudence,  and  give  his  enemies  an  excuse  for 
reproaching  him  and  his  work.  We  cautioned  him  of  the  injuri- 
ous influence  on  his  ministry  of  these  incidental  allusions  to 
slavery.  They  could  enlighten  and  profit  nobody,  but  they  were 
admirably  suited  to  dispirit  his  friends  and  to  enrage  his  enemies. 
He  became  more  cautious.  For  some  days  his  preaching  was 
plain,  earnest  and  well  adapted  to  do  good,  and  the  religious 
feeling  of  the  congregation  was  evidently  increasing.  It  was  not 
long,  however,  before  other  remarks  were  made  on  the  subject  of 
slavery,  innocent  in  themselves,  and  which  Elder  Taylor  or  my- 
self might  have  made  without  offence,  that  checked  the  rising 


SETTLEMENT  IN  RICHMOND.  207 

interest  in  religion,  and  set  all  to  watching  his  words  in  an  anx- 
ious or  in  a  captious  spirit. 

Perceiving  his  strong  desire  to  make  side  remarks  on  the  sub- 
ject of  slavery,  and  that  they  must  prevent  his  usefulness,  we  pro- 
posed to  him  to  continue  his  preaching  without  these  impertinent 
allusions,  so  well  suited  to  divert  attention  from  the  main  object 
of  the  services — the  conversion  of  sinners — and  that,  at  the  close 
of  his  labors,  we  would  call  together  all  the  Baptists  of  the  city, 
and  give  him  an  opportunity  to  deliver  his  views  of  slavery  with- 
out restraint.  To  this  proposal  he  showed  no  readiness  to  accede. 
We  should  have  been  right  well  pleased  to  encounter  him  in  de- 
bate on  the  subject  under  circumstances  which  did  not  threaten 
to  prevent  the  usefulness  of  our  meetings. 

After  a  week  or  two  the  meeting  was  removed  to  the  Second 
Baptist  Church.  The  preaching  of  Elder  Knapp  was  continued 
with  very  little  change  in  its  character.  He  would  make  excel- 
lent impressions  by  his  very  solemn  and  searching  appeals,  and 
then  efface  them  by  injudicious  remarks.  We  were  tossed  from 
hope  to  fear,  and  from  fear  to  hope,  we  know  not  how  many  days. 
At  length,  these  ill-timed  remarks  and  insinuations  that,  under 
the  circumstances,  might  have  been  endured,  became  unbearable. 
At  the  close  of  a  service,  which  had  been  attended  by  a  large 
congregation,  upon  brief  consultation  among  the  brethren,  he  was 
informed  that  his  services  were  no  longer  desired.  To  prevent 
Lumult  or  excitement,  arrangements  were  made  for  his  return  to 
Washington  by  the  early  train  of  the  next  day.  We  do  not  re- 
member what  compensation  was  allowed  the  elder  for  his  labors  ; 
but  we  are  quite  sure,  from  our  knowledge  of  the  generous  deacons 
of  the  day,  that  he  did  not  depart  without  his  hire. 

Having  passed  over  the  battle,  we  may  now  at  leisure  survey 
the  field  of  conflict.  Elder  Knapp  was  no  ordinary  man.  He 
had  clear  conceptions,  strong  common  sense,  a  fair  knowledge  of 
theology,  a  pretty  thorough  acquaintance  with  human  nature — 
Yankee,  not  Southern,  human  nature,  if  I  may  use  the  remark 
without  discourtesy — and  a  remarkably  pointed  manner  of  ex- 
pressing his  thoughts.  He  was  neither  an  orator  nor  a  logician  ; 
but  was  gifted  in  the  art  of  illustration.  His  preaching  had  more 
to  do  with  the  conscience  than  the  emotions.     He  had  a  great  op- 


208  LIFE  OF  JEREMrAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

portunity  of  usefulness  in  Richmond,  had  he  known  how  to  employ 
it.  As  it  was,  the  meeting  was  attended  with  considerable  suc- 
cess. Quite  a  number  of  additions  were  made  to  the  churches, 
and  some  of  them  were  valuable.  On  the  whole,  I  considered 
him  a  pious  man  and  an  able  evangelist. 

Elder  Knapp,  however,  was  not  perfect ;  and,  in  this  respect, 
did  not  differ  from  his  race.  He  had  more  obstinacy  than  pru- 
dence. In  his  attacks  on  slavery  he  did  not  go  far  enough  to 
entitle  him  to  praise  for  his  heroism ;  and  he  went  quite  too  far  to 
be  commended  for  his  discretion.  His  judgment  was  greatly  in- 
fluenced by  his  feelings.  I  may  state  a  fact  in  confirmation  of 
this  remark.  During  the  time  that  he  was  preaching  at  the  First 
Church  he  held  a  service  in  the  African  Church.  He  was  greatly 
delighted  with  his  success.  The  congregation  was  large,  and  the 
religious  feeling  was  deep  and  general.  He  declared  that  he  had 
not  seen  so  much  of  the  presence  of  God  since  he  had  been  in  the 
city,  and  expressed  the  opinion  that  his  labors  would  have  been 
far  more  useful  among  the  colored  people  than  they  had  been 
among  the  whites.  A  few  days  afterwards,  in  discussing  the  sub- 
ject of  slavery  with  him,  I  told  him  that  an  incidental  benefit  of 
it  was  that  a  great  number  of  the  race  had  been  evangelized.  He 
instantly  affirmed  that  the  negroes  were  so  ignorant,  and  so 
debased  by  slavery,  that  they  could  not  be  benefited  by  the  gos- 
pel. I  called  his  attention  to  his  report  of  the  result  of  his  late 
service  in  the  African  Church.  To  me  it  seemed  that  he  resorted 
to  mere  quibbling  to  conceal  a  contradiction  which  he  must  have 
discerned. 

I  must  refer  in  self-vindication  to  another  point.  In  the  "  Life 
of  Elder  Knapp  "  there  are  some  statements  which  need  to  be  cor- 
rected, or,  at  least,  explained.  I  have  not  the  book  at  hand,  and 
must  rely  on  my  memory  in  reporting  them. 

It  is  stated  that  Elder  Knapp  "  boarded  "  with  me  during  his 
stay  in  Richmond.  To  board  is  to  receive  food  and  lodging  for 
compensation.  Brother  Knapp  and  his  wife  shared  in  the  hospi- 
tality of  myself  and  family,  and  had  the  best  fare  that  we  could 
give  them.  Possibly,  by  the  word  "  boarded  "  he  meant  simply 
entertained.  He  censured  me  on  account  of  the  manner  in  which 
a  servant  of  mine  was  clothed.     These  are  the  facts.     Old  Uncle 


SETTLEMENT  IN   RICHMOND.  209 

Davy  was  a  slave,  almost  entirely  past  service,  who  came  into  my 
possession  by  marriage,  and  for  whose  maintenance  I  was  bound 
by  the  laws  of  the  State,  as  well  as  the  dictates  of  humanity. 
Whether  he  or  I  was  master,  it  would  have  been  difficult  to 
decide.  To  me  was  conceded  the  right  to  control ;  but  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  Uncle  Davy  would  have  his  own  way.  He  had  a  singu- 
lar penchant  for  preserving  his  clothes.  He  had  more,  if  not  of 
so  fine  a  texture,  I  dare  say,  than  either  myself  or  Elder  Knapp  ; 
but  he  wore  his  good  clothes  only  on  Sundays.  He  had  an  over- 
coat which  had  probably  been  in  use  twenty-five  years.  It  had 
been  patched  and  darned,  and  mended  again  and  again,  until  it 
had  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  and  probably  contained  nothing 
of  the  stuff  of  which  it  was  originally  made.  I  repeatedly  ex- 
postulated with  him  against  wearing  the  relic ;  but  he  insisted 
that  it  was  comfortable,  and  that  its  appearance  was  of  no  im- 
portance. I  could  not  have  prevented  him  from  wearing  that, 
and  other  apparel  well  suited  to  it,  without  the  exercise  of  an 
authority  which  Elder  Knapp  would  have  considered  as  a  bitter 
fruit  of  slavery,  and  to  the  use  of  which  I  had  an  instinctive  re- 
pugnance. That  the  brother  gave  the  impressions  made  on  his 
mind  by  the  beggarly  garments  of  my  old  servant  or  beneficiary, 
I  do  not  question ;  but  whether,  as  a  participant  of  my  hospitality, 
it  was  kind  of  him  to  report  these  impressions,  without  some  effort 
to  learn  whether  they  were  founded  in  truth  or  misconception, 
the  reader  must  judge  for  himself. 

It  is  said  that  Dr.  Jeter  was  called  to  the  First 
Church  on  the  recommendation  of  Rev.  Jno.  Kerr. 
That,  in  itself,  is  a  significant  fact.  Kerr  had  several 
years  before  that  time  retired  from  the  charge  of  the 
church.  He  and  Jeter,  outside  of  their  common 
faith,  were  very  unlike,  and  yet  in  this  vigorous  and 
devout  young  man,  Kerr  recognized  one  capable  of 
the  highest  service.  It  is  worthy  of  record  that 
from  the  beginning  Jeter  stood  well  with  the 
preachers.  He  was  never  specially  brilliant,  and 
there  was  much  in  his  manner,  in  and  out  of  the 
14 


210  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

pulpit,  that  was  fairly  open  to  criticism,  but  his 
brother  ministers  believed  in  him.  He  was  honest, 
fervent  and  always  brave.  These  qualities,  when 
coupled  with  brains,  always  excite  admiration.  The 
friendship  of  good  ministers  is  a  precious  boon  for 
anybody.  It  was  an  unspeakable  blessing  to  Jeter 
that  in  his  early  life  he  had  the  affection  and  counsel 
of  such  men  as  Broaddus,  Clopton,  Rice,  Fife,  Taylor 
and  Kerr.  While  in  Richmond  he  was  intimate, 
also,  with  the  leading  ministers  of  other  denomina- 
tions, and  greatly  invigorated  by  his  contact  with 
them. 

Nor  was  he  less  happy  in  the  character  of  those 
in  his  church  with  whom  he  was  brought  into  such 
intimate  association.  According  to  the  testimony 
of  Bro.  A.  H.  Sands,  the  First  Church  was  composed 
of  very  superior  material.  It  was  just  such  a  church 
as  any  whole-hearted  preacher  would  delight  to  serve. 
It  had  escaped  from  the  infirmities  and  indiscretions 
of  its  youth,  and  was  yet  unstereotyped,  free  from 
inward  disorders,  and  ready  to  be  led  to  new  con- 
quests. It  had  really  few  crooked,  snarly,  graceless 
men — men  of  disagreeable  consciences  who  felt  that 
they  were  chosen  of  the  Lord  to  cripple  and  balk  the 
pastor  in  his  work.  Not  that  there  were  no  men  in 
the  church  who  did  not  have  decided  notions  of  their 
own,  and  who  sometimes  were  almost  fiercely  earnest 
in  advocating  them,  but  the  brethren  cordially  sup- 
ported him  in  his  measures  and  efforts.  I  am  told 
that  the  church-meetings  were  models  of  order, 
courtesy  and  fraternity.  The  church  had  noble 
men  to  lead  in  its  onward  march,  and  it  would  be  an 


SETTLEMENT  IN  EICHMOND.  211 

agreeable  task  to  pause  here  and  present  a  descrip- 
tion of  many  of  them.  There  was  James  C.  Crane, 
versatile,  tactful,  graceful  of  speech,  and  a  sort  of 
magazine  of  spiritual  force ;  there  was  Archibald 
Thomas,  rugged  of  form,  outspoken  even  to  severity 
at  times,  immensely  resolute,  not  always  gentle  in 
his  modes,  but  thoroughly  true-hearted,  rich  in  com- 
mon sense  and  minutely  faithful  in  the  discharge  of 
every  accepted  trust;  there  was  Richard  Reins,  im- 
pulsive in  temperament,  quick  in  his  movements, 
tender  as  a  child,  spotless  in  his  life  and  ready  for 
every  good  work ;  there  was  James  Thomas,  Jr.,  just 
rising  then  to  public  view,  but  enfolding  in  himself 
the  high  qualities  which  subsequently  won  for  him 
eminent  success  in  the  world  of  trade.  In  him  Dr. 
Jeter  found  an  ever-ready  and  judicious  helper. 
Other  men  there  were,  equally  worthy  and  faithful, 
whose  names  I  must  reluctantly  omit. 

It  cannot  be  invidious  to  say  that  the  most  valu- 
able counsellor  and  co-worker  that  Dr.  Jeter  had  in 
the  First  Church  was  a  woman.  To  her,  in  his  mo- 
ments of  solicitude  and  perplexity,  he  always  went 
and  found  a  deep  and  intelligent  sympathy.  When 
new  enterprises  filled  his  hands  and  he  needed  the 
best  advice,  he  appealed  to  her.  Among  women  she 
was  pre-eminent  for  strength,  sagacity  and  discretion. 
Noble  in  form,  gently  heroic  in  courage,  and  singu- 
larly wise  in  her  conclusions,  she  exerted  an  almost 
dominating  influence  in  the  church.  In  no  small 
measure  was  he  indebted  to  her  for  the  pleasantness 
and  prosperity  of  his  pastorate.  That  woman  was 
Mrs.  Archibald  Thomas.     In  what  I   have    said    I 


212  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETEE,  D.D. 

have  uttered  an  unsolicited  and  inadequate  tribute 
to  one  of  the  noblest  women  that  I  have  ever  known. 
I,  too,  have  some  occasion  for  cherishing  her  memory. 
When,  an  untried  college  graduate,  I  began  my 
simple  career  as  a  pastor  in  Manchester,  Va.,  that 
honored  woman,  then  far  advanced  in  life,  gave  me 
such  encouragement  as  came  from  no  other  earthly 
source.  It  came  unsought  when  I  was  a  stranger  to 
her,  and  even  to  the  present  moment  I  cannot  recall 
it  without  grateful  sensibility. 

Dr.  Jeter  never  attracted  overflowing  congregations. 
He  was  not  a  man  to  charm  fickle  and  floating  people, 
but  I  am  told  that  his  congregations  were  always 
large.  He  preached  three  times  a  week,  and  rarely 
failed  to  occupy  his  pulpit  himself  on  Sunday  morn- 
ings. If  there  were  visiting  ministers,  he  would  in- 
vite them  to  preach  either  in  the  afternoon  or  at 
night.  He  was  very  careful  in  the  preparation  of  his 
sermons,  and  made  it  a  point  to  prepare  as  elaborately 
his  week-night  discourses  as  he  did  those  that  were 
intended  for  the  Lord's  day. 

Upon  his  removal  to  Richmond  he  became  asso- 
ciated at  once  with  the  denominational  work  of  the 
Virginia  Baptists.  He  was  made  a  member  of  the 
several  boards,  and  took  a  leading  part  in  their  man- 
agement. While  an  intense  and  thorough  Baptist, 
he  never  engrafted  into  his  creed  any  extreme  views 
which  prevented  a  cordial  co-operation  with  his 
brethren  of  other  denominations.  In  Bible  work 
and  tract  distribution  he  warmly  joined  and  soon 
became  a  leader  in  the  evangelical  movements  of  the 
city. 


SETTLEMENT  IN  RICHMOND.  213 

In  those  days  he  was  without  fortune,  and  had 
only  a  moderate  salary.  He  lived  in  respectable 
style,  without  display  and  within  his  income.  For 
the  judicious  management  of  his  affairs  he  owed 
much  to  his  wife.  She  was  thoroughly  domestic  and 
conscientiously  economical.  She  was  liberal,  but 
greatly  averse  to  foolish  expenditures.  She  was  so 
plain  in  her  apparel  that  he  found  fault  with  her  on 
that  account.  It  stung  his  pride  for  her  to  appear  in 
a  dress  out  of  keeping  with  her  position. 

It  is  told  that  he  once  observed  a  young  lady  in 
his  congregation  wearing  a  Leghorn  hat  with  a  hand- 
some ostrich  feather  on  it.  He  was  struck  with  its 
exceeding  beauty,  and,  upon  returning  home,  com- 
manded his  frugal  spouse  to  purchase  one  for  herself 
just  like  it.  The  next  Sunday  she  appeared  with  a 
bonnet  of  exactly  the  same  pattern,  but  minus  the 
feather.  He  scanned  the  new  piece  of  head-gear  with 
a  curious  eye,  and  finally  said,  in  a  tone  of  disap- 
pointment:  "I  reckon  your  bonnet  is  just  like  Miss 
W.'s,  but  somehow  it  doesn't  look  the  same  to  me." 
The  candid  wife  explained  the  difference  and  sug- 
gested that  the  feather  was  a  needless  expense.  He 
did  not  see  it  in  that  light,  and  never  rested  until  the 
new  bonnet  had  upon  it  the  ornamental  plume. 

During  most  of  the  time  that  he  was  pastor  of  the 
First  Church  he  occupied  a  house  on  Fourth  Street, 
between  Grace  and  Franklin  Streets.  It  was  a  popu- 
lar resort  for  the  young,  and  its  modest  little  parlor 
often  rang  with  music  and  cheery  laughter.  He 
loved  company,  and  was  always  ambitious  to  make 
his  home  attractive.     An  old  gentleman  remarked 


214  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

to  me  lately  that  whenever  he  reverted  to  those 
times  he  thought  of  Dr.  Jeter  chiefly  as  he  appeared 
in  his  home. 

In  1844  Mrs.  Jeter  lost  her  health,  and  upon  the 
advice  of  friends  he  took  her  to  Florida.  Of  that 
visit  he  wrote  a  racy  account,  which  I  must  omit.  I 
extract  from  it  one  incident  which  occurred  while 
they  were  in  Charleston,  S.  C. : 

We  put  up  at  the  Charleston  Hotel.  Mrs.  Jeter  and  myself 
were  seated  in  the  parlor.  She  was  pale,  delicate,  far  from  home, 
among  strangers,  and  depressed  in  spirits.  In  the  parlor  were  many 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  healthful  and  gay,  engaged  in  lively  con- 
versation. Mrs.  Jeter  and  myself  sat  alone,  and  were  silent.  As 
one  of  the  ladies  was  about  to  leave  the  room,  she  walked  up  to 
Mrs.  Jeter,  handed  her  a  large  and  beautiful  bouquet,  and  with- 
out uttering  a  word,  retired  before  we  had  an  opportunity  of 
thanking  her.  A  courtesy  so  considerate,  kind  and  graceful 
brought  tears  to  our  eyes.  We  knew  not  her  name,  and  she 
probably  did  not  know  ours ;  but  I  have  never  since  thought  of 
the  event  without  the  liveliest  admiration  of  the  delicate  attention 
of  the  Charleston  lady.  How  much  might  be  done,  with  little 
cost  or  trouble,  to  cheer  the  sorrowing  and  to  encourage  the 
desponding  by  thoughtful  and  delicate  attentions ! 

The  Baptist  Triennial  Convention  was  organized 
in  May,  1844,  in  Philadelphia.  It  was  intended  at 
first  to  foster  Foreign  Missions  only,  but  soon  after 
it  took  up  the  Home  Mission  work  also.  With  this 
Convention  it  was  hoped  that  the  Baptists  of  the  en- 
tire country  would  co-operate,  and  for  a  while  the 
Baptists  of  the  South  sustained  it  with  unstinted 
cordiality. 

But  the  slavery  question  soon  became  a  bone  of 
contention,  and  the  brethren  in  both  sections  saw 
that  a  division  was  inevitable.     The  formal  separa- 


SETTLEMENT  IN   RICHMOND.  215 

tion  took  place  in  1845,  and  as  it  was  an  event  of  such 
wide-spread  and  abiding  interest,  I  will  publish  in  full 
Dr.  Jeter's  account  of  it : 

THE  DIVISION   OF   THE   TRIENNIAL   CONVENTION. 

At  the  first  Triennial  Convention  which  I  attended  at  the  city  of 
New  York,  in  1832,  the  elements  of  discord  had  begun  to  appear. 
Abolition  was  then  in  its  incipiency.  In  the  next  meeting 
of  the  Convention,  held  in  the  city  of  Richmond,  owing  to  its 
Southern  location,  and  the  decided  preponderance  of  Southern 
influence,  it  did  not  show  itself,  though  several  leading  Abolition- 
ists were  present.  At  the  Convention  in  Baltimore,  in  1841,  the 
subject  of  slavery  began  to  be  a  disturbing  element  in  the  delib- 
erations of  the  body.  Conciliatory  resolutions  on  the  subject  were 
adopted  by  an  overwhelming  majority.  They  did  not  extinguish, 
but  merely  repressed,  for  a  time,  the  smouldering  fires. 

When  the  Convention  met  in  Philadelphia,  in  1844,  the  Aboli- 
tion party  had  much  increased  in  numbers  and  strength.  It  was 
evident  that  an  earnest  conflict  on  the  subject  of  slavery  could 
not  be  avoided.  The  views  of  Brethren  were  widely  and  irrecon- 
cilably variant  concerning  it.  At  the  North,  many  believed  it  to 
be  "  the  sum  of  all  villanies,"  the  sin  of  all  sins,  and  the  one  evil 
against  which  they  should  direct  their  heaviest  moral  batteries. 
Slaveholders  they  considered  as  utterly  unfit  for  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  and  their  contributions  to  the  cause  of  missions  a  blight 
and  a  curse.  These  extreme  views,  however,  were  not  in  the 
ascendency  among  Northern  brethren.  Generally,  they  held  that 
slavery  was  an  evil,  a  misfortune,  to  be  deplored ;  but  that  slave- 
holders of  the  South,  under  their  circumstances,  might  or  might 
not  sin  in  owning  slaves.  Their  views  amounted  to  this  ;  that 
bad  slaveholders  were  not  worthy  of  Christian  fellowship,  but 
that  good  slaveholders  were.  I  remember  distinctly  that  Dr. 
Wayland  said  :  "  I  believe  slavery  to  be  a  sin  ;  but  consider  many 
of  the  Southern  slaveholders  to  be  as  free  from  the  guilt  of  slavery 
as  I  am." 

There  were  conflicting  views  on  this  subject  among  Southern 
as  well  as  among  Northern  Baptists.  None  believed  that  slavery 
per  se  was  sinful.     All  were  of  opinion  that  the  interference  of 


216  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Northern  people  with  Southern  slavery  was  uncalled  for,  unwise, 
and  injurious  both  to  masters  and  slaves.  Many  looked  on  slavery 
as  a  great  blessing,  to  be  defended  and  perpetuated  at  all  hazards. 
Others  viewed  it  as  a  misfortune  to  be  endured  and  made  the  best 
of,  under  the  circumstances  in  which  we  were  placed,  and  for 
the  existence  of  which  we  were  in  no  wise  responsible.  Not  one 
in  a  thousand  believed  that  slavery  could  be  abolished  without 
serious  injury  to  both  masters  and  slaves,  with  few  or  no  com- 
pensating advantages  to  either  party. 

The  Convention,  composed  of  these  heterogeneous  elements, 
commenced  its  session  with  a  reasonable  prospect  of  discord  and 
trouble.  It  was  deemed  necessary  that  Dr.  William  B.  Johnson, 
of  South  Carolina,  a  minister  of  fine  attainments,  and  an  excel- 
lent presiding  officer,  who  had  acceptably  served  the  Convention 
several  sessions,  should,  as  a  peace-offering,  decline  a  re-election. 
The  Abolitionists  nominated  Dr.  B.  T.  Welch,  of  Albany,  N.  Y., 
and  the  conservatives  Dr.  F.  Way  land,  of  Providence,  R.I.,  for  the 
presidency.  Dr.  Wayland  was  elected.  He  was  an  anti-slavery 
man,  but  eminently  liberal  in  his  views,  conservative  in  his  spirit, 
and  conciliatory  in  his  manners.  He  was  as  much  opposed  as 
any  Southern  man  to  the  introduction  of  the  subject  of  slavery 
into  the  Convention,  or  permitting  it  to  interfere  with  the  co- 
operation of  Baptists,  North  and  South,  in  the  work  of  missions. 
The  business  of  the  Convention  was  conducted  without  serious 
trouble  from  the  Abolitionists.  The  body,  being  composed  of 
members  representing  a  considerable  pecuniary  contribution,  was 
made  up  largely  of  conservative  and  prudent  men. 

The  American  Baptist  Home  Mission  Society,  differing  little 
from  a  mass-meeting,  was,  from  its  very  origin,  the  battle-field  of 
the  Abolitionists  and  slaveholders.  In  this  society  occurred  the 
memorable  discussion,  in  which  the  sentence,  "  Brother  Jeter  has 
the  floor ! "  acquired  such  notoriety.  The  facts,  as  I  remember 
them,  are  these :  Deacon  Heman  Lincoln,  of  Boston,  was  in  the 
chair.  He  was  a  noble  layman,  a  gentleman  of  wealth,  refined 
manners,  high  social  position,  a  good  parliamentarian,  trained  in 
the  Massachusetts  Senate,  of  which  he  had  been  a  member.  He 
was  neither  a  slaveholder  nor  an  Abolitionist ;  but  he  valued  men 
according  to  their  intellectual  and  moral  worth.     The  subject  of 


SETTLEMENT   IN  RICHMOND.  217 

slavery  was  under  discussion — in  what  aspect  I  do  not  now  re- 
member— and  several  speeches  had  been  made  on  it.  I  rose  to 
speak,  and  the  President  accorded  to  me  the  floor.  Instantly 
there  was  a  vociferous  demand  that  another  should  have  it.  He 
had  risen  several  times,  it  was  said,  and  failed  to  gain  the  eye  of 
the  Speaker.  It  was  insisted  that  his  repeated  attempts  to  gain 
the  floor  fairly  entitled  him  to  it.  To  all  the  demands  and  argu- 
ments, the  inflexible  deacon  persistently  cried :  "  Brother  Jeter 
has  the  floor !  "  It  is  strange  t^at  persons  having  the  slightest 
knowledge  of  parliamentary  usage  should  have  demanded  the 
floor  for  the  brother  on  that  plea.  If  he  had  risen  fifty  times,  and 
failed  to  obtain  the  recognition  of  the  presiding  officer,  he  would 
have  had  no  ground  for  the  claim.  His  frequent  failures  to  ob- 
tain it  might  have  been  a  plea  for  yielding  to  him  in  courtesy ; 
but  they  did  not  constitute  the  shadow  of  a  claim  to  it  as  a  matter 
of  right.     The  firmness  of  the  President  prevailed. 

After  standing  for  half  an  hour,  as  I  suppose,  through  a  tumult 
unparalleled  in  my  experience  in  deliberative  bodies,  the  floor 
was  reluctantly  yielded  to  me.  Under  ordinary  circumstances,  I 
should  have  been  embarrassed  and  unable  to  proceed  in  the  dis- 
cussion ;  but  several  days  of  intense  excitement  had  brought  me 
to  a  point  at  which  I  could  not  be  confused.  I  commenced  my 
speech  with  deliberation,  and  continued  it  to  the  end  with  free- 
dom and  calmness.  I  could  not  repeat  my  arguments,  if  I  would* 
and  I  need  not,  if  I  could.  They  were  entirely  satisfactory  to  those 
agreeing  with  me  in  opinion,  and  were  probably  not  noticed  by 
those  who  dissented  from  it.  In  truth,  the  excitement,  though  it 
was  favorable  to  fervent  speaking,  was  entirely  adverse  to  candid 
hearing. 

The  meetings  closed  with  no  favorable  indications  of  the  future 
co-operation  of  the  Baptists  North  and  South,  in  missions,  home 
or  foreign.  Resolutions,  shortly  afterwards  adopted  by  the  Ala- 
bama Baptist  State  Convention,  or  its  Board  (I  do  not  recollect 
which),  precipitated  the  division.  The  resolutions  demanded  of 
the  Foreign  Mission  Board  in  Boston  an  explicit  answer  to  the 
question,  whether  a  slaveholder  would  be  appointed  a  missionary? 
The  answer  was  promptly  returned  that  he  would  not  be.  This 
decision  terminated  all  hope  of  union  between  the  Baptists  of  the 


218  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

two  sections  in  missionary  work.  The  Boston  Board  had  been 
the  most  conservative  of  all  our  Boards.  It  had  been  the  very 
anchor  of  the  Convention.  This  decision  filled  the  brethren  of 
the  South  with  amazement  and  sorrow.  It  was  not  that  slave- 
holders, under  some  circumstances,  on  account  of  prejudices 
against  them,  would  not  be  appointed  missionaries,  but  that,  be- 
cause of  their  relation  to  slavery,  they  could  not  be  appointed. 
Slaveholding,  among  the  American  Indians,  presented  no  barrier 
to  usefulness ;  but  slaveholders,  even  among  them,  could  not  be 
employed  as  missionaries.  Further  co-operation  was  impossible. 
It  reduced  the  Southern  Baptists  to  the  condition  of  mere  burden- 
bearers.  They  might  contribute  to  the  funds  of  the  Convention — 
to  this  many  of  the  Abolitionists  were  opposed — but  owning 
slaves,  under  whatever  circumstances,  precluded  ministers  from 
serving  as  missionaries.  A  meeting  was  immediately  held  by  the 
brethren  at  Richmond,  the  action  of  the  Board  carefully  consid- 
ered, and  a  Convention  invited  to  assemble  in  Augusta,  Ga.,  to 
decide  what,  under  this  new  aspect  of  affairs,  should  be  done. 

Meanwhile,  a  called  meeting  of  the  General  Board  of  the  Tri- 
ennial Convention  was  held  in  Providence,  R.  I.,  to  confer  on  the 
proper  action  of  the  body  in  the  exigency.  Rev.  James  B.  Taylor 
and  myself,  at  the  request  of  the  brethren  here,  attended  the 
meeting.  We  were  most  cordially  and  pleasantly  entertained  in 
the  family  of  Dr.  Way] and.  I  never  saw  so  much  of  him  as  on 
this  occasion,  and  I  was  deeply  impressed  by  his  large-hearted 
liberality  and  his  sound  wisdom.  After  free  and  full  consulta- 
tion with  the  brethren,  especially  Dr.  Wayland,  a  separation  of 
the  Baptists,  North  and  South,  was  deemed  best  for  all  parties. 
Division  was  inevitable.  If  the  Baptists  of  the  South  did  not 
withdraw,  it  was  foreseen  that  the  Abolitionists  and  Conservatives 
of  the  North  would  be  rent  asunder  in  their  Churches,  Associa- 
tions and  Mission  Societies.  Much  as  a  sectional  division  was  to 
be  deplored,  it  was  deemed  far  less  injurious  to  our  cause  than  a 
separation  on  the  principle,  styled  by  the  Presbyterians  "  elective 
affinity,"  and  on  which  they  had  then  recently  divided.  Taylor 
and  myself  returned  to  the  South  with  the  assurance  of  the  wisest 
and  most  conservative  of  the  Northern  brethren,  that  the  forma- 
tion of  a  Southern  Convention  would  meet  their  approbation  and 
secure  their  earnest  prayers  for  its  success. 


SETTLEMENT  IN   RICHMOND.  219 

I  cannot  dwell  upon  the  events  which  followed. 
Upon  the  return  of  Taylor  and  Jeter  from  the  meet- 
ing in  Providence,  they  reported  the  result  to  the 
Virginia  Foreign  Mission  Society.  That  body  de- 
termined to  call  a  meeting  of  Southern  brethren 
for  conference  as  to  the  propriety  of  organizing  a  new 
Convention. 

They  named  May  8th,  1845,  as  the  time,  and 
Augusta,  Ga.,  as  the  place.  The  paper  which  was 
sent  abroad  inviting  this  conference  was  prepared  by 
Dr.  Jeter,  and  was  a  marvel  of  good  judgment  and 
prudence.  That  it  was  kindly  received  is  sufficiently 
attested  by  the  fact  that  310  delegates  from  various 
States  of  the  South  appeared  in  Augusta  at  the  ap- 
pointed time  and  proceeded  with  great  harmony  to 
organize  the  Southern  Baptist  Convention. 

In  that  movement  Dr.  Jeter  took  a  foremost  and 
enthusiastic  part.  The  Convention  organized  the 
Foreign  and  Home  Mission  Boards,  locating  the 
former  at  Richmond,  Va.,  and  making  Jeter  its  presi- 
dent and  James  B.  Taylor  its  corresponding  secre- 
tary. In  Dr.  H.  A.  Tupper's  admirable  history  of 
the  Foreign  Missions  of  the  Southern  Baptist  Con- 
vention he  furnishes  a  full  account  of  those  stirring 
times. 

In  happy  contrast  with  the  strife  which  led  to  the 
dismemberment  of  the  old  Triennial  Convention  was 
an  event  which  occurred  in  Richmond  on  the  8th  of 
February,  1846.  I  refer  to  the  reception  tendered 
to  Dr.  Adoniram  Judson,  which  was  held  in  the  First 
Baptist  Church,  and  at  which  Dr.  Jeter  made  the 
address.     It  showed  that  in  his  heart  there  was  no 


220  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

sectional  rancor.  Dr.  Jeter's  address  was  one  of  the 
best  of  his  life,  and  was  received  everywhere  with 
favor.  I  believe  it  has  been  published  in  every  life 
of  Dr.  Judson  that  has  been  written.  I  am  sorry  to 
omit  it.     I  give  at  least  its  closing  paragraphs  : 

But  I  must  close  my  remarks.  Brother  Judson,  we  are  ac- 
quainted with  your  history.  We  have  marked  your  labors — have 
sympathized  in  your  various  sufferings — have  shed  many  a  tear 
at  the  foot  of  the  "  Hopia-tree," — have  gone,  in  fancy,  on  mourn- 
ful pilgrimage  to  the  rocky  island  of  St.  Helena — have  rejoiced 
in  your  successes  and  the  successes  of  your  devoted  associates — 
and  have  long  and  fervently  wished  to  see  your  face  in  the  flesh. 
This  privilege  we  now  enjoy.  Welcome,  thrice  welcome,  are 
you,  my  brother,  to  our  city — our  churches — our  bosoms.  I 
speak  as  the  representative  of  Southern  Baptists.  We  love  you 
for  the  truth's  sake,  and  for  your  labors  in  the  cause  of  Christ. 
We  honor  you  as  the  father  of  American  missions. 

One  thought  pains  us.  To-morrow  morning  you  leave  us. 
We  shall  see  your  face  no  more.  You  will  soon  return  to  Bur- 
mah,  the  land  of  your  adoption.  There  you  will  continue  your 
toils,  and  there,  probably,  be  buried.  But  this  separation  is  not 
without  its  solace.  Thank  God !  it  is  as  near  from  Burmah  to 
heaven  as  from  Richmond  or  any  other  point  on  the  globe. 
Angels,  oft  commissioned  to  convey  to  heaven  the  departing 
spirits  of  pious  Burmans  and  Karens,  have  learned  the  way  to 
that  dark  land.  When  dismissed  from  your  toils  and  sufferings, 
they  will  be  in  readiness  to  perform  the  same  service  for  you. 
God  grant  that  we  may  all  meet  in  that  bright  world.  There 
sin  shall  no  more  annoy  us,  separations  no  more  pain  us,  and 
every  power  find  full  and  sweet  employ  in  the  service  of  Christ ! 

And  now,  my  brother,  I  give  my  hand  in  token  of  affection  to 
you,  and  of  your  cordial  reception  among  us.  ' 

Mrs.  Sarah  Ann  Jeter  died  October  29th,  1847.  As 
she  had  been  an  invalid  for  several  years,  her  depar- 
ture was  no  surprise.     During  the  days  of  her  feeble- 


SETTLEMENT  IN  RICHMOND.  221 

ness  her  husband  watched  over  her  with  a  tenderness 
and  fidelity  worthy  of  all  praise.  For  nearly  twenty 
years  they  walked  together,  and  she  was,  perhaps, 
of  all  women,  best  suited  to  be  his  companion  during 
that  peculiar  period  of  his  life.  She  was  a  deeply 
pious  woman — free  from  worldly  ambition,  calm  in 
her  views  of  things,  and  not  spoiled  by  earthly  distinc- 
tions. He  respected  her  thoroughly,  and  while  she 
did  not  seek  to  control  him  or  weary  him  with  ex- 
cessive advice,  she  exerted  a  safe  and  helpful  influ- 
ence over  him. 

In  January,  1849,  he  was  married  again.  His 
third  wife  was  formerly  Miss  Charlotte  E.  Wharton, 
of  Bedford  County,  Virginia.  This  lady  I  knew  well 
when  I  was  a  child.  She  belonged  to  one  of  the 
most  prominent  families  in  Northern  Bedford,  and 
was,  by  general  consent,  the  most  queenly  and  attract- 
ive young  woman  in  the  community  at  the  time  of 
her  marriage.  Her  family  were  Episcopalians,  but 
she  was  never  a  member  of  that  church,  and  soon 
after  her  marriage  became  a  Baptist. 

As  her  mother's  home  was  only  a  mile  or  two  from 
my  father's,  Dr.  Jeter  made  our  house  his  head- 
quarters during  the  days  of  his  wooing.  I  was  a  boy 
then,  and  I  recall  many  incidents  of  that  sentimental 
period  in  his  life  which  must  be  omitted.  Of  Mrs. 
Jeter  more  will  be  said  hereafter. 

In  1849  Dr.  Jeter  received  a  call  to  St.  Louis,  Mo. 
For  years  he  had  been  inoculated  more  or  less  with 
the  "  Western  Fever,"  and  without  seeking  to  ascer- 
tain the  wishes  of  his  church,  he  accepted  the  call. 
His  action  caused  great  surprise  and  overwhelmed 


222  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

his  people  with  distress.  The  demonstrations  of 
grief  deeply  affected  him  and  led  him  to  question 
seriously  the  wisdom  of  his  decision.  Here  is  what 
he  said  about  it  in  after-years : 

Had  I  formed  the  slightest  conception  of  the  pain  of  separating 
from  a  people  among  whom  I  had  so  long  and  pleasantly  labored 
and  who  had  for  me,  as  I  had  for  them,  so  tender  an  affection,  I 
should  not  for  a  moment  have  thought  of  breaking  the  ties  which 
united  us.  I  took  leave  of  them  at  the  close  of  an  afternoon 
communion  service.  I  may  be  permitted  to  say  that  I,  at  least, 
have  never  passed  through  such  a  trial.  There  were  the  aged 
brethren  and  sisters  with  whom  I  had  taken  sweet  counsel  — there 
were  the  younger  members,  converted  under  my  ministry,  bap- 
tized by  my  hands  and  edified  by  my  instructions — there  were 
many  whom  I  had  united  in  the  bonds  of  matrimony,  and  more 
still  whose  loved  ones  I  had  followed  with  tearful  eyes  to  the 
tomb ;  and  to  all  these,  at  the  close  of  a  solemn  communion 
season,  I  was  to  extend  the  parting  hand.  It  was  too  much  to 
endure.  Tears,  and  sighs,  and  sobs,  made  a  scene  such  as  I  have 
rarely,  perhaps  never  on  any  other  occasion,  witnessed.  I 
lamented  my  determination  to  leave  the  church,  but  I  had  gone 
too  far  to  think  of  retracing  my  steps.  I  had  promised  to  go  to 
St.  Louis,  and  to  St.  Louis  I  must  go.  In  a  future  article  I  may 
give  some  account  of  the  events  which  I  remember  there. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ST.  LOUIS  PASTORATE. 

INTO  every  minister's  life  changes  must  come. 
They  are  often  unforeseen,  and  sometimes  fill 
him  with  perplexity.  It  is  not  easy  always 
even  for  the  wisest  men  to  find  the  path  of  duty. 
The  shallow  and  selfish  are  always  quick  in  discov- 
ering that  the  leadings  of  Providence  are  along  the 
line  of  their  preferences.  Dr.  Jeter  once  said  to  me 
that  preachers  ought  not  to  expect  anything  like 
miraculous  guidance  in  dealing  with  pastoral  calls. 
He  thought  that  they  ought  to  exercise  their  com- 
mon sense  in  settling  such  questions.  They  were 
not  required  to  know  absolutely  or  in  any  extraor- 
dinary way  what  their  duty  was.  It  was  right,  he 
said,  for  ministers,  under  such  circumstances,  to  seek 
for  Divine  direction,  and  then,  after  carefully  weigh- 
ing with  sober  and  conscientious  deliberation  all  the 
questions  involved,  to  do  what  seemed  to  be  best. 
He  admitted  that  one  might  err  even  then ;  but  if 
honest  in  his  decision,  God  would  bless  him.  I  sup- 
pose that  he  settled  the  question  of  his  removal  to 
Missouri  in  this  way.  He  never  had  any  pungent 
and  sustaining  conviction  that  he  ought  to  accept 
the    St.  Louis   call.     Beforehand    he  was   in  great 

223 


224  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

doubt,  and  even  after  he  had  formally  committed 
himself,  he  was  harassed  with  misgivings  as  to  the 
wisdom  of  his  action.  But  he  had  followed  what 
seemed  to  be  the  suggestion  of  duty,  and  he  was 
always  satisfied  with  the  result.  He  went  through 
a  whirl  of  confusion  and  excitement  at  the  time; 
but  it  is  soothing  to  note  the  serene  way  in  which 
he  looked  back  upon  his  action  through  the  thick- 
ening mist  of  intervening  years.  Here  is  the  modest 
paragraph  in  which  he  records  his  action: 

In  the  early  part  of  the  year  1849  I  was  invited  to  take  charge 
of  the  Second  Baptist  Church  in  St.  Louis,  as  a  successor  to  Dr. 
S.  Lynd.  To  me,  few  events  could  have  been  more  unexpected 
than  this  request.  I  knew  nothing  of  the  church,  and  the  church 
knew  little  of  me.  For  several  reasons  the  call  impressed  me 
favorably.  I  had  been  long  in  Richmond,  and  had  but  little 
prospect  of  doing  more  than  maintaining  the  church  in  the 
measure  of  prosperity  to  which  it  had  reached.  I  had  visited 
St.  Louis  in  the  year  1844,  and  was  profoundly  impressed  with 
its  importance  as  a  field  of  evangelical  labor.  I  then  thought, 
as  I  still  think,  that  no  place  on  the  continent  offered,  or  could 
offer,  greater  prospects  for  permanent  success  in  ministerial  labor. 
After  considerable  delay,  great  anxiety,  and  much  doubt  as  to 
my  duty,  I  accepted  the  call. 

That  Dr.  Jeter's  removal  to  the  West  was  a  mis- 
take, T  do  not  undertake  to  say.  He  did  not  think 
so.  It  will  be  noticed  that  he  touches  only  in  gene- 
ral terms  the  motives  which  caused  him  to  sunder 
the  bonds  which  linked  him  to  the  First  Church  and 
to  accept  the  charge  of  a  church  of  which,  according 
to  his  own  confession,  he  knew  nothing. 

It  implies  no  reflection  upon  his  character  to  say 
that  possibly  he  never  exactly  knew  why  he  went 


ST.  LOUIS  PASTORATE.  225 

to  St.  Louis.  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  men  are  not 
the  most  discriminating  judges  of  the  influences 
which  shape  their  conduct.  They  never  can  ana- 
lyze the  intricate  net-work  of  their  environment. 
They  are  imbedded  in  influences  which,  while  potent 
and  over-mastering,  they  do  not  recognize.  They 
are  apt  to  ascribe  their  conduct  to  one  or  more  mo- 
tives, of  which  they  are  distinctly  conscious  and 
whose  force  they  are  ready  to  confess.  If  there  are 
unpleasant  or  humiliating  facts  connected  with  their 
changes,  they  are  willing  to  forget  them. 

I  have  hinted  already  that  Dr.  Jeter  had  become 
infected  with  what  in  those  days  was  commonly 
called  the  "  Western  Fever."  As  to  the  possibilities 
of  the  trans- Mississippi  States  and  Territories,  he 
was  an  enthusiast.  It  was  through  his  persuasion 
that  his  father's  family  emigrated  to  Missouri.  He 
was  often  in  Bedford  in  those  times,  and  he  talked 
much  of  the  West  as  an  inviting  field  for  those  who 
had  their  fortunes  to  make.  He  set  the  simple  folk 
of  Bedford  on  fire,  and  some  of  them,  under  the  con- 
tagion of  his  eloquence,  broke  up  in  hot  haste  and 
struck  out  for  the  West.  It  is  due  to  history  to  say 
that  not  a  few  of  those  who  went  forth  singing  came 
back  in  sadness. 

In  1844  Dr.  Jeter  paid  his  first  visit  to  the  West. 
He  went  not  on  a  tour  of  inspection,  but  to  see  his 
kindred.  He  spent  only  a  few  weeks  in  Missouri, 
where  they  resided,  and  had  but  limited  opportuni- 
ties for  forming  his  judgment  of  the  country.  But 
he  was  carried  away.  He  came  back  in  raptures, 
and  from  that  time  forth  he  dealt  in  superlatives  in 
15 


226  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

portraying  the  attractions  of  the  "western  country." 
As  that  visit  evidently  had  much  to  do  with  his 
decision  five  years  afterwards,  I  will  insert  here  his 
description  of  it,  saying  in  advance  that  many  of  its 
most  charming  items  are  in  no  way  connected  with 
Missouri.  Still,  the  paper  bristles  with  such  bright 
and  taking  points  that  I  have  no  heart  to  muti- 
late it: 

A  TRIP   TO   THE   WEST. 

At  the  close  of  the  Triennial  Convention  in  Philadelphia,  in 
1844,  my  friend,  Rev.  Daniel  Witt,  and  myself  set  off  on  a  West- 
ern excursion, — he  with  the  purpose  of  deciding  whether  he 
would  remove  to  the  West,  and  I  to  see  my  relatives  who  had 
settled  in  Missouri.  I  kept  a  journal  of  our  tour,  which  was 
published  in  the  Religious  Herald  shortly  after  my  return  ;  and 
I  may  remark,  in  passing,  that  this  is  the  first  record  of  the  kind 
to  which  I  have  referred  for  reviving  my  recollections.  It  was, 
in  many  respects,  a  remarkable  journey,  of  which  I  will  give  a 
brief  account. 

Our  trip  was  from  Philadelphia  to  Chambersburg  by  railway, 
and  from  thence  by  coach,  across  the  Alleghany  Mountain  to 
Pittsburgh.  The  coach  was  crowded  within  and  without,  the 
weather  was  rainy,  the  roads  were  muddy,  our  progress  was  slow, 
and  our  condition  was  far  from  being  enviable.  On  this  part  of 
the  journey  occurred  the  extraordinary  display  of  selfishness 
mentioned,  some  time  since,  in  the  Herald,  by  Dr.  J.  M.  Pendle- 
ton, one  of  our  fellow-passengers. 

Rev.  Mr. was  among  the  travelers.     He  was  a  member 

of  the  Convention  from  the  Buckeye  State,  had  taken  quite  an 
active  part  in  its  proceedings,  and  was  a  man  of  no  mean  gifts. 
His  name  was  the  eleventh  on  the  list  of  passengers,  and,  of  course, 
he  was  not  entitled  to  an  inside  seat.  When  the  coach  was 
brought  out  at  Chambersburg,  he  was  the  first  to  enter  it,  and 
without  ceremony  or  apology,  took  a  choice  hind  seat.  During 
the  journey  many  changes  of  seats  were  made  for  the  accommo- 
dation of  the  wet  and  weary  passengers ;   but  the  Buckeye  trav- 


ST.  LOUIS  PASTORATE.  227 

eler  firmly  maintained  his  position.  After  journeying  all  night, 
and  until  late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  through  frequent 
and  heavy  showers,  the  coach  broke  down  beneath  its  heavy 
human  freight.  The  driver  was  compelled  to  leave  the  coach 
and  horses  and  go  forward  to  a  tavern  to  obtain  help.  He  was 
followed  by  the  deck  passengers,  anxious  to  find  a  shelter  from 
the  threatening  rain.  Among  the  travelers  there  was  a  Boston- 
ian,  of  genial  and  most  unselfish  spirit.  He  had  endeavored 
throughout  the  trip  to  make  himself  agreeable,  and  diminish  the 
discomforts  of  the  travel.  He  was  left  by  the  driver  in  charge 
of  his  team.  The  rain  beginning  to  fall  more  heavily,  the  gene- 
rous Yankee  came  to  the  door  of  the  coach  and  inquired  whether 
any  of  the  passengers  could  lend  him  an  umbrella.  The  umbrellas 
of  the  inside  tourists,  with  a  single  exception,  had  been  lent  to 
their  outside  friends,  and  carried  by  them  to  the  tavern.  All 
answered,  except  the  Buckeye,  that  their  umbrellas  were  in  use. 
It  was  soon  perceived  that  he  had  one  carefully  covered  and  laid 
at  his  side ;  and  he  was  requested  to  lend  it  to  the  exposed  Bos- 
tonian.  He  replied  :  "  It  is  new — it  has  never  been  used — it  has 
a  cover  on  it."  "  Take  my  parasol,"  said  a  kind  lady.  "  No," 
replied  the  generous  Yankee,  "  I  won't  remain  ;  the  gentleman 
may  take  care  of  the  horses  himself."  "  He  is  right !  "  exclaimed 
the  lady ;  and  all  the  passengers  assented  to  the  remark.  "  I 
guess,"  said  the  Buckeye,  with  imperturbable  composure,  "  he  is 
offended  because  I  would  not  lend  him  my  umbrella." 

From  Pittsburgh  we  traveled  by  steamer  down  the  Ohio  and  up 
the  Mississippi  River  to  St.  Louis,  occupying,  including  stoppages 
and  changes,  quite  a  week.  The  trip  to  me  was  exceedingly  in- 
teresting. I  was  a  green  traveler,  and  to  me  everything  was  new. 
The  shores,  the  towns,  the  passengers,  the  customs,  and  the  ever- 
shifting  scenes,  furnished  opportunities  for  observations  and 
yielded  increasing  delight. 

Bro.  Witt  and  myself  spent  a  month  in  the  State  of  Missouri, 
visiting  our  friends,  traversing  its  broad  and  beautiful  prairies, 
navigating  its  noble  rivers,  trying  our  unpracticed  hands  at  un- 
successful deer-hunting,  and  preaching  occasionally,  to  deeply 
interested  audiences,  the  same  gospel  which  in  our  youth  we  had 
proclaimed,  with  so  much  pleasure,  in  the  rural  districts  of  Vir- 


228  LIFE  OF  JEEEMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

ginia.  We  seemed  to  live  over  again  our  early  years.  It  was  to 
us  a  season  of  great  enjoyment,  and,  I  trust,  of  no  little  profit. 
During  all  the  month  the  rains,  with  slight  intermissions,  had 
been  falling,  and  sometimes  heavily.  The  rivers  were  swelled 
above  their  banks,  the  prairies  were  covered  with  water,  and  the 
whole  country  was  converted  into  mud. 

On  the  19th  of  June  we  left  St.  Louis  on  our  return  home. 
We  took  passage  in  a  steamer  to  ascend  the  Illinois  River.  We 
doubt  whether,  in  all  the  history  of  Western  steamboat  navigation, 
such  a  trip  has  been  recorded.  Since  the  settlement  of  the  coun- 
try by  Europeans,  no  such  rise  in  the  Western  streams  has  been 
known.  A  pillar  on  the  levee  in  St.  Louis,  erected  to  perpetuate 
the  memory  of  the  flood,  shows  that  the  Mississippi  was  three  or 
four  feet  higher  than  it  has  been  at  any  other  time  within  the 
period  of  authentic  information.  The  levee,  quite  wide  and  ele- 
vated, was  covered  with  water,  and  the  houses  on  Water  Street 
were  deluged  by  it.  The  river  overspread  the  bottom  on  the 
Illinois  side  to  the  bluff,  a  distance  of  eight  or  ten  miles.  On  the 
topmost  wave  of  this  unparalleled  flood  we  commenced  our  home- 
ward voyage.  Whoever  makes  such  a  trip  will  remember  it.  In 
our  progress,  the  steamer  passed  along  stage  roads,  over  prairies 
and  cultivated  farms,  and  through  the  streets  of  towns,  finding  it 
necessary  to  change  its  course  continually  to  avoid  the  descend- 
ing drift-wood,  with  which  the  current,  in  many  places,  was  liter- 
ally covered.  Houses  might  be  seen  submerged  in  every  degree, 
from  the  door-sill  to  the  roof.  Many  signs  were  visible  of  the 
escape  of  families  from  the  devouring  flood  through  the  roofs  of 
their  houses,  and  by  boats  kept  in  readiness  for  use  in  the  last 
extremity.  The  fresh  in  the  Illinois  was  proportionately  greater 
than  in  any  other  river.  Its  banks  are  so  high  that  passengers 
on  the  upper  decks  of  steamers  cannot,  at  low  water,  see  the  bot- 
toms on  either  side.  At  this  time  the  banks  were  overflowed  to 
the  depth  of  ten  feet,  and  the  voyagers  could  gaze  on  a  boundless 
waste  of  water.  At  Naples,  a  small  town  on  the  river,  the  stream 
was  forty  feet  perpendicular  above  Ioav  water  mark. 

After  two  days'  run,  amid  the  wonders  of  the  rushing,  desolat- 
ing flood,  we  landed  at  Ottawa,  and  took  a  coach  for  Chicago, 
then  a  town  of  7,000  inhabitants.     From  this  place,  we  came  in 


ST.  LOUIS  PASTORATE.  229 

a  steamer  by  Mackinaw  and  Detroit  to  Buffalo,  and  thence  by 
rail  to  the  Falls  of  Niagara,  our  point  of  destination. 

Of  all  the  persons  who  have  ever  seen  this  thundering  cataract, 
we,  who  had  just  traveled  on  the  Father  of  Waters,  in  his  most 
turbid  and  turbulent  mood,  saw  it  at  the  greatest  disadvantage. 
Things  are  great  or  small  by  comparison.  The  Niagara  is  a 
great  river,  and  the  cataract  is  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world. 
I  took  much  pains  to  get  a  favorable  view  of  it.  I  was  conducted 
to  a  commanding  position,  and  opened  my  eyes  suddenly  on  the 
scene  that  I  might  be  strongly  impressed  by  its  grandeur.  I  was 
disappointed.  It  was  impossible  for  me  to  conceive  that  the  Falls 
were  great.  I  thought  of  the  Mississippi  as  I  had  just  seen  it, 
ten  miles  wide,  covered  with  drift-wood,  and  flowing  at  the  rate 
of  five  or  six  miles  an  hour.  My  imagination  could  supply  all 
the  rest.  I  fancied  that  I  could  see  the  Mississippi,  with  its 
enormous  masses  of  drift-wood,  dashing  over  a  precipice,  deep  in 
proportion  to  the  width  of  the  stream,  and  roaring  above  seven 
thunders  in  the  fearful  chasm  below.  That  was  a  cataract  worth 
looking  at.  The  Falls  before  me,  in  spite  of  myself,  seemed  to  be 
little  more  than  the  mimic  waterfalls  that  I  sported  with  in  my 
childhood.  I  did  not  make  the  attempt  to  jump  across  the  Falls, 
but  I  felt  as  if  I  could  do  it. 

After  surveying  the  Falls  from  different  points,  and  forming  a 
just  estimate  of  its  proportions,  I  was  deeply  impressed  with  its 
magnitude  and  grandeur.  It  does  not  equal  in  extent  and  sub- 
limity the  Falls  of  the  Mississippi  River,  created  by  my  excited 
imagination ;  but  it  is  certainly  among  the  most  interesting  of 
the  earthly  wonders  on  which  I  have  been  permitted  to  gaze.  It 
is  worthy  to  be  classed  with  the  stupendous  Rock  Bridge  of  this 
State  ;  the  Saguenay  River,  in  Canada,  with  its  wild  and  diversi- 
fied scenery ;  Mont  Blanc,  in  Switzerland,  arrayed  in  the  golden 
hues  of  an  evening  sunset ;  but  neither  pen  nor  pencil  can  give 
the  reader  any  adequate  conception  of  it.  The  seeming  insignifi- 
cance of  the  cataract  was  the  only  delusion  into  which  I  fell  on 
this  visit.  Elder  Witt  and  myself  employed  a  hackman  to  carry 
us  to  Lundy's  Lane,  a  memorable  battle-field  of  the  War  of  1812. 
He  was  very  civil  and  kind,  and  to  save  us  from  expense,  he 
volunteered  to  act  as  our  cicerone.     He  had  heard  the  popular 


230  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

guide  so  often  describe  the  scene  that  it  was  quite  familiar  to  him. 
Very  fluently  he  pointed  out  where  the  British  troops  were  posted, 
where  Scott,  with  his  valiant  forces,  advanced,  and  how  the  battle 
raged,  with  varying  success,  until  finally,  victory  perched  on  the 
American  banner.  We  were  profoundly  interested  in  the  scene, 
and  in  imagination  fought  over  the  battle  of  Lundy's  Lane. 

On  returning  home,  I  wrote  out  and  published  an  account  of 
my  visit  to  Lundy's  Lane,  with  the  impressions  of  the  battle, 
which  I  had  received  from  our  courteous  guide.  Some  years 
afterwards  I  was  in  conversation  with  a  gentleman  who  had 
visited  Lundy's  Lane.  He  referred  to  Brock's  monument.  I 
told  him  there  was  no  monument  on  the  field  when  I  was  there. 
He  said  there  must  have  been, — that  it  stood  at  the  head  of  the 
village.  I  replied  that  I  saw  no  village  at  the  place.  "  Why," 
said  he,  "  you  have  never  been  to  Lundy's  Lane."  He  was  right. 
The  artful  but  dishonest  hackman  carried  us  a  mile  or  so  from 
the  Falls,  and  finding  that  he  could  practice  on  our  credulity, 
made  us  believe  that  we  were  at  Lundy's  Lane. 

We  were  not  the  first  nor  the  last  travelers  deceived  by  guides. 
Not  long  since  we  read  an  account,  in  a  highly  respectable  jour- 
nal, of  Mount  Vesuvius  by  a  tourist,  who  had  either  never  seen 
it,  or  had  been  grievously  cheated  by  his  cicerone.  The  reports 
of  travelers  in  unexplored  regions  are,  in  many  cases,  no  more 
worthy  of  credit  than  dreams.  Their  uncertainty  and  their  ex- 
aggerations give  force  and  interest  to  the  admirable  burlesque 
stories  of  Baron  Munchausen. 

There  has  always  been  a  sort  of  dumb  suspicion 
that  there  was,  at  the  time  Dr.  Jeter  was  called  to 
St.  Louis,  some  friction  in  his  relations  with  the 
First  Church.  It  is  really  surprising  that  the  mat- 
ter was  always  so  successfully  concealed  from  the 
general  public.  Dr.  Jeter  had  nothing  to  say  on 
the  subject.  In  all  my  intimate  association  with 
him,  he  never  referred  to  it,  even  in  the  most  indi- 
rect terms.     His  "  Recollections  "  do  not  touch  it. 

It  seems  best  to  let  the  facts  be  known,  as  they 


ST.  LOUIS  PASTORATE.  231 

are  not  discreditable  either  to  the  pastor  or  the 
church.  Dr.  Robert  Ryland  furnishes  what,  I  doubt 
not,  is  the  real  explanation  of  the  slight  unpleasant- 
ness which  arose  between  Dr.  Jeter  and  his  people, 
and  which  led  to  his  resignation : 

During  the  latter  years  of  his  first  Richmond  pastorate,  a  few 
of  the  wealthier  members  of  the  church  desired  to  have  an  organ 
put  in  the  house  of  worship,  and  to  make  the  proposal  easy,  they 
offered  to  advance  the  requisite  means  until  the  church  should 
feel  able  and  willing  to  indemnify  them.  To  this  measure  the 
pastor  was  conscientiously  opposed.  He  delivered  a  strong  ser- 
mon against  instrumental  and  operatic  music  in  public  worship, 
as  wholly  alien  to  the  spirit  of  the  New  Testament.  To  the  great 
comfort  of  the  more  conservative  element  of  the  body,  he  silenced 
the  agitation  of  the  organ  question.  That  action,  however,  was 
the  latent  cause  of  his  resignation.  About  this  time  he  received 
an  unexpected  call  to  a  church  in  St.  Louis,  and  though  ardently 
loving,  and  loved  by,  his  people,  he  offered  his  resignation,  in- 
tending to  govern  his  course  by  the  conduct  of  the  church  on 
that  subject.  About  nineteen-twentieths  of  his  charge  were 
anxious  to  retain  his  services,  but  they  were  told  that  if  they 
would  vote  to  accept  his  resignation,  they  could  then,  at  an  early 
day,  recall  him  to  his  pulpit,  and  thus  accomplish  their  wishes. 
A  majority  was  thus  induced  to  accept  his  resignation,  and  the 
next  morning  he  wrote  to  St.  Louis  and  accepted  the  invitation 
of  the  church.  Arriving  on  his  new  field,  he  found  the  church 
already  furnished  with  a  loud-sounding  organ,  and  all  the  mem- 
bers satisfied  and  perhaps  pleased  with  the  arrangement.  The 
question  of  consistency  was  thus  raised  in  his  mind.  Was  he  to 
adhere  to  his  principles,  and  stir  up  the  subject  of  instrumental 
music  among  those  who  had  quietly  agreed  to  use  it  in  their 
worship  ?  Or  was  he,  still  holding  his  convictions,  to  acquiesce 
silently  in  the  views  of  others  for  which  he  was  not  responsible, 
and  thus  preserve  harmony  of  feeling  and  action  between  himself 
and  his  new  charge?  After  seeking  divine  guidance,  and  con- 
sulting some  of  his  old  friends  in  Virginia,  he  concluded  not  to 
disturb  the  custom  of  mechanical  music  among  those  who  had 


232  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

already  adopted  it,  but  to  urge  them  to  "  sing  praises  unto  God  " 
and  to  "  make  melody  in  their  hearts  unto  the  Lord."  This  was 
a  wise  and  prudent  course,  but  it  is  a  delicate  question  to  what 
extent  compromise  and  expediency  should  be  allowed  to  modify 
our  practices  in  religion. 

And  so  it  was  the  music  demon.  How  many  pas- 
tors have  been  uprooted,  and  how  many  churches 
shattered  and  wrecked  by  the  same  cause !  It  was 
melancholy,  indeed,  that  a  pastorate,  so  remarkable 
for  harmony  and  usefulness,  should  have  been  dis- 
turbed by  anything.  But  it  never  amounted  to  an 
open  rupture,  and  left  no  permanent  scars  upon  any 
human  heart. 

Perhaps  the  advocates  of  the  organ  were  unduly 
persistent.  They  had  made  haste  at  a  time  when 
delay  would  have  been  a  virtue.  It  is  due  to  them 
to  say,  however,  that  they  were  thoroughly  honora- 
ble in  the  measures  adopted  to  accomplish  what  they 
really  thought  would  be  for  the  good  of  the  church. 
It  was  no  attempt  on  their  part  to  mortify  or  dis- 
lodge the  pastor.  They  loved  him,  while  they  de- 
sired the  organ.  It  is  likely  that  they  came  to  love 
him  less  because  he  stood  in  their  way.  Some  peo- 
ple can  love  anything  about  a  pastor  better  than 
his  opposition  to  their  favorite  measures.  From  Dr. 
Ryland's  hint  as  to  the  expedients  employed  to  se- 
cure the  acceptance  of  Dr.  Jeter's  resignation,  we 
imagine  that  the  feeling  against  him  had  become 
quite  decided  and  even  aggressive. 

I  think  that  Dr.  Jeter  went  astray  on  two  points. 
We  can  hardly  be  surprised  at  his  opposition  to  me- 
chanical music,   as   Dr.   Ryland  calls  it  (though   I 


ST.  LOUIS  PASTORATE.  233 

think  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  worst  types  of 
mechanical  music  are  sometimes  furnished  by  vocal- 
ists) ;  but  he  made  a  mistake  in  assuming  an  atti- 
tude so  hostile  and  imperious  on  a  mere  question  of 
policy.  He  mistook  a  prejudice  for  a  principle,  and 
he  lived  long  enough  to  find  it  out.  Indeed,  he 
found  it  out  quite  soon.  It  was  a  singular  provi- 
dence which  wrenched  him  out  of  Richmond  and 
took  him  away  to  St.  Louis,  where  he  might  learn 
a  needed  lesson  in  pastoral  discretion.  The  "  loud- 
sounding  organ "  in  his  new  church  became  his 
teacher.  It  revealed  to  him  his  error,  and  hence- 
forth he  was  quiet. 

He  was  wrong  on  another  point.  He  ought  not 
to  have  presented  his  resignation,  in  order  to  test 
his  strength  at  the  only  point  in  which  he  was  even 
partially  weak  with  his  church.  A  pastor's  resigna- 
tion ought  not  to  hang  on  any  merely  incidental 
question.  When  reviewing  his  relation  with  his 
people,  he  ought  to  consider  it  in  all  of  its  varied 
aspects,  and  then  incline  to  the  stronger  side.  This 
Dr.  Jeter  failed  to  do. 

But  we  need  not  criticise  him  now.  In  opposing 
the  organ,  he  acted  with  a  fearless,  though  mis- 
guided conscience,  and  in  offering  his  resignation  he 
acted  for  the  best,  and  the  end  is  known. 

It  has  been  impossible  to  collect  many  details  of 
the  doctor's  pastorate  in  St.  Louis.  It  lasted  only 
three  years,  and  it  has  now  been  thirty-five  years 
since  it  closed.  Meanwhile  the  city  has  had  a  phe- 
nomenal growth,  and  little  of  what  it  then  was,  now 
remains.     The  quiet  and  stately  old  house  in  which 


234  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETEE,  D.D. 

he  preached  has  given  place  to  the  most  expensive 
and  magnificent  Baptist  church  edifice  in  the  South, 
and  the  church  itself  has  grown  greatly  in  numbers, 
wealth  and  power.  It  would  be  foolish  to  claim  for 
Dr.  Jeter  any  exclusive  honor  for  the  extraordinary 
advancement  which  the  church  has  made  since  he 
was  its  pastor.  It  has  since  had  other  pastors  as 
true  and  faithful  as  he  was,  and  they  and  he  together 
must  share  the  public  respect  and  distinction  which 
always  wait  upon  faithful  service.  There,  as  every- 
where, Dr.  Jeter  wrought  with  burning  and  indom- 
itable zeal,  and  won  success  in  the  face  of  the  gravest 
obstacles.  He  always  loved  St.  Louis,  and  to  the 
present  moment  he  is  held  in  grateful  remembrance 
by  the  Baptists  of  that  city.  In  the  following  paper 
he  gives  a  cheerful  and  inspiring  history  of  his  West- 
ern pastorate: 

REMOVAL  TO  ST.   LOUIS. 

In  the  year  1849  I  went  to  this  city  and  took  charge  of  the 
Second,  then  the  only  white  Baptist  Church  in  the  place.  Its 
pulpit  had  been  rendered  vacant  by  the  removal  of  Rev.  S.  W. 
Lynd  to  the  Theological  Seminary,  then  recently  established  at 
Covington,  Ky.  St.  Louis  had  just  been  fearfully  scourged  by 
the  prevalence  of  cholera.  The  epidemic  caused  a  general  panic, 
drove  most  of  the  people  from  their  homes,  and  sent  several 
thousands  of  them  to  untimely  graves.  I  was  prevented  for 
some  time  from  entering  upon  my  pastoral  labors  by  the  scourge  ; 
and  when  I  commenced  them  the  disease  was  still  lingering  in  the 
city.  The  church,  reduced  in  number,  contained  about  two 
hundred  and  seventy-five  members.  Among  these  ^ere  many 
brethren  of  intelligence,  piety,  great  devotion  to  the  interests  of 
the  church,  and  prosperous  in  business,  if  not  rich.  It  was,  in 
some  respects,  one  of  the  best  churches  that  I  have  known.  It 
had  recently  completed  a  house  of  worship — then  one  of  the  finest 


ST.  LOUIS  PASTORATE.  235 

in  the  city — and  its  members  evinced  a  praiseworthy  liberality  in 
the  cause  of  Christ.  My  first  sermon  was  preached  to  a  good 
congregation  in  October,  1849,  from  Col.  i.  29  :  "  Whom  we 
preach,  warning  every  man,  and  teaching  every  man  in  all  wis- 
dom, that  we  may  present  every  man  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus."  I 
endeavored  to  present  the  theme,  the  manner  and  the  end  of  the 
apostolic  miDistry  as  an  example  for  my  imitation  while  I  should 
labor  among  them. 

There  were  peculiar  difficulties  to  be  encountered  in  my  new 
field  of  labor — difficulties  which,  I  presume,  all  pastors  in  that 
and  similar  spheres  of  activity  have  experienced.  The  church 
was  composed  of  heterogeneous  materials.  Few  of  them  had  been 
converted  and  baptized  in  the  city.  They  were  immigrants  from 
England,  Scotland  and  Wales,  and  from  almost  every  State  of  the 
Union.  They  had  their  peculiar  views  of  preaching,  music,  the 
manner  of  conducting  public  worship,  church  discipline,  &c;  and 
these  were  as  various  as  were  the  tastes  and  training  of  the  people 
in  the  several  regions  from  which  the  members  came.  It  was 
almost  impossible  to  say,  do,  or  propose  anything  which  would 
secure  universal  approbation.  This  diversity,  however,  led  to 
great  liberality  and  forbearance  among  the  brethren.  There  was 
a  commendable  readiness  to  yield  to  the  decision  of  the  majority  ; 
but,  unfortunately,  this  submission  did  not  include  a  hearty 
assent  to  that  judgment.  Had  the  members  of  the  church  been 
of  harmonious  views  and  aims  it  would  have  been  of  almost 
unequalled  efficiency. 

A  greater  diversity  of  views  on  religious  subjects  prevailed 
without  than  within  the  church.  A  large  portion  of  the  population 
was  European,  fully  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  skepticism.  In 
preaching  to  them  nothing  could  be  taken  for  granted.  The  in- 
spiration of  the  Scriptures,  moral  responsibility,  the  existence  of 
God  and  of  a  future  state,  and  even  the  depravity  of  human  na- 
ture, were  by  many  boldly  denied,  or  artfully  called  in  question. 

As  there  were  unusual  obstacles  to  overcome,  so  there  were 
extraordinary  incitements  to  activity  in  this  new  sphere  of  toil. 
The  rapid  increase  of  the  population,  the  spirit  of  inquiry  and 
self-reliance  engendered  by  freedom  from  ancient  opinions  and 
customs,  the  constant  conflict  of  discordant  views,  and  the  cer- 


236  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

tainty  that  the  people  of  St.  Louis  must  eventually  exert  a 
moulding  influence  over  the  religious  faith  and  character  of 
millions  of  inhabitants  in  the  great  Mississippi  Valley,  were  well 
suited  to  impress  on  the  heart  of  a  minister  the  transcendent  im- 
portance of  his  work.  He  seemed  to  be  sowing  seed  that  would 
increase,  not  merely  a  hundred,  but  more  than  a  thousand-fold. 
It  was  impossible  to  live  in  such  a  city  without  imbibing  its  spirit 
of  entei-prise,  hopefulness  and  perseverance ;  and  this  spirit  was 
as  fruitful  in  religious  as  in  secular  pursuits. 

My  aim,  from  the  beginning  of  my  labors  in  St.  Louis,  was, 
not  chiefly  to  gather  a  large  church,  but  to  multiply  throughout 
the  city  agencies  for  its  evangelization.  In  this  aim  many  mem- 
bers of  the  church  heartily  sympathized  with  me.  Arrangements 
were  soon  made  for  the  support  of  two  ministers  for  a  period  of 
three  years.  One-half  of  this  amount  was  subscribed  by  the 
members  of  the  church,  and  the  other  half  by  the  Boards  of  the 
Baptist  General  Association  of  Missouri  and  of  the  Southern  Bap- 
tist Convention.  To  co-operate  with  these  ministers  it  was  pro- 
posed to  organize  two  churches  from  members  dismissed  from  the 
Second  Church  and  such  unassociated  Baptists  as  could  be  found 
in  the  city.  Two  noble  bands  of  brethren  and  sisters  went  out  from 
the  Second  Church — one  formed  the  Third  Baptist  Church,  in 
the  western  part  of  the  city,  and  the  other  Zion  (now  the  Fourth) 
Baptist  Church,  in  North  St.  Louis.  The  next  step  was  to  secure 
pastors  for  these  infant  churches.  Rev.  Joseph  Walker,  of  Vir- 
ginia, became  the  pastor  of  the  Third,  and  I.  E.  Owen,  from  the 
Theological  Seminary  at  Covington,  the  pastor  of  Zion  or  the 
Fourth  Church.  I  need  not  attempt  to  give  the  history  of  these 
churches.     They  lived,  grew,  and  are  now  strong  and  flourishing. 

The  plan  of  sending  out  colonies  from  the  church  under  my 
charge  produced  a  result  which  I  had  not  anticipated.  The 
members  who  went  out  to  organize  the  new  churches  were  those 
most  in  harmony  with  my  views,  and  most  readily  influenced  by 
my  counsels.  My  position  in  the  Second  Church  was  weakened 
by  the  measure.  The  restless,  discordant  members  remained,  and 
rendered  my  situation  for  a  time  unpleasant.  I  received  no  dis- 
courtesy worth  noticing  from  any  member  of  the  church,  but 
some  of  them  were  dissatisfied  with  my  ministry.     They  were  not 


ST.  LOUIS  PASTORATE.  237 

nourished  by  it.  They  had  been  used  to  a  different  kind  of  food. 
I  did  not  blame  them  for  their  taste.  I  was  deeply  conscious  of  the 
imperfection  of  my  ministry,  and  would  gladly  have  made  it  more 
instructive  and  profitable.  In  a  short  time  a  way  of  deliverance 
from  this  embarrassment  was  suggested.  It  was  proposed  to 
erect  a  new  house  of  worship  in  an  inviting  and  growing  part  of 
the  city ;  that  the  church  should  be  divided  ;  and  that  I  might 
choose  whether  I  would  go  to  the  new  or  remain  in  the  old  house, 
with  the  members  who  wished  to  continue  under  my  ministry. 
The  scheme  was  not  fully  matured,  but  awakened  great  interest, 
met  with  general  approbation,  and  certainly  opened  an  encour- 
aging prospect  for  the  Baptists  of  St.  Louis. 

The  Lord,  however,  had  another  purpose  concerning  my  labors. 
The  health  of  my  wife  declined.  The  climate  was  supposed  to 
be  unfavorable  to  it.  She  was  intensely  anxious  to  return  to  her 
native  State.  I  did  not  myself  believe  that  the  climate  was  un- 
propitious  to  her  health ;  but  I  was  unwilling  to  assume  the 
responsibility  of  retaining  her  where  she  and  some  of  her  medical 
advisers  thought  her  life  was  imperiled.  I  seemed  shut  up  by 
Divine  Providence  to  the  necessity  of  changing  my  climate.  On 
my  visiting  Richmond,  the  pulpit  of  the  Grace  Street  Baptist 
Church  being  vacant  by  the  resignation  of  Dr.  Kingsford,  I  was 
called  to  occupy  it.  Attending  the  session  of  the  General  Asso- 
ciation, held  in  Norfolk  about  this  time,  I  was  welcomed  with 
such  cordiality,  and  received  such  proofs  of  the  general  desire  of 
the  Baptists  for  my  return  to  the  State,  that  I  yielded  a  reluctant 
compliance  with  the  call  of  the  Grace  Street  Church. 

In  the  summer  of  1852  I  returned  to  St.  Louis  to  dissolve  my 
relation  with  the  church,  and  make  arrangements  for  my  return 
to  Virginia.  In  some  respects  the  change  was  pleasant.  I  had 
not  been  long  enough  absent  from  Richmond  to  weaken  the  bonds 
which  bound  me  to  the  brethren  there.  Among  them  I  knew  I 
should  find  more  congenial  society,  and  a  less  difficult  field  of 
labor.  Still  the  change  was  a  painful  one.  I  had  formed  many 
dear  friendships  in  St.  Louis.  It  was,  indeed,  a  difficult  field  of 
labor,  but  one  of  surpassing  interest  and  promise.  My  prospect 
for  usefulness  was  never  more  cheering  than  in  the  hour  I  was 
called  to  leave  it.     With  a  great  struggle  and  a  heavy  heart  I 


238         LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

left  the  growing  emporium  of  what  was  then  the  West  to  return 
to  the  quiet  city  of  Richmond. 

In  reviewing  my  life  in  the  West,  after  the  lapse  of  nearly 
thirty  years,  I  may  be  indulged  in  a  few  remarks.  I  seriously 
question  whether  any  portion  of  it,  of  equal  length,  has  been  so 
useful  as  that  which  I  spent  in  St.  Louis.  While  there  I  baptized 
probably  one  hundred  and  fifty  persons,  many  of  whom  became 
valuable  church  members.  The  Second  Church  was  about  as 
strong  when  I  resigned  as  it  was  when  I  assumed  its  pastorate. 
The  organization  of  the  Third  and  Fourth  Churches  marked  an 
era  in  the  progress  of  the  St.  Louis  Baptists.  The  First  Church 
had  been  merged  into  the  Second ;  and  this  stood  alone  until  the 
organization  of  the  Third  and  Fourth. 

In  one  respect  I  was  greatly  disappointed  in  my  settlement  in 
St.  Louis.  Judging  from  its  size  and  commercial  prosperity,  I 
supposed  that  it  wielded  a  religious  influence  in  Missouri  like  that 
which  Richmond  exerted  in  Virginia.  In  this  I  was  quite  mis- 
taken. The  influence  of  the  St.  Louis  Baptists  in  the  State,  when 
I  resided  there,  was  very  inconsiderable.  It  was  not  the  seat  of 
any  of  the  denominational  Boards.  The  Western  Watchman,  a 
Baptist  paper,  was  published  there,  but  its  circulation  was  limited 
and  its  influence  feeble.  Besides,  there  was,  if  I  did  not  misin- 
terpret the  signs,  a  prejudice  among  the  country  brethren  against 
metropolitan  influence — a  prejudice  which  has  by  no  means  been 
restricted  to  Missouri  Baptists. 

On  the  whole,  I  deem  it  a  fortunate  event  in  my  life  that  I 
lived  in  St.  Louis.  It  gave  me  a  knowledge  of  mankind,  which 
otherwise  I  should  not  have  acquired.  It  taught  me  the  necessity 
of  self-reliance — a  virtue  for  the  cultivation  of  which  my  circum- 
stances had  been  previously  unfavorable.  My  intimate  intercourse 
with  brethren  of  widely  different  views  corrected  many  of  the 
stereotyped  notions  derived  from  my  early  training.  I  was 
especially  favored  in  returning  to  my  native  State  before  there 
had  been  any  material  change  of  my  tastes,  habits  and  opinions, 
rendering  me  uncongenial  with  my  early  companions,  and 
diminishing  my  power  to  do  them  good,  I  have  known  several 
instances  of  ministers  returning  to  their  old  fields  of  labor,  after 
many  years  of  absence,  to  find  that  their  influence  was  gone,  and 


ST.  LOUIS  PASTORATE.  239 

their  prospects  of  usefulness  sadly  beclouded.  By  the  good  prov- 
idence of  God,  I  was  restored  to  my  early  field  of  labor  in  time 
to  retain  the  influence  which  I  had  secured  by  nearly  thirty  years' 
labor  in  it. 

Dr.  Ryland  says  that  Dr.  Jeter  was  never  "  at 
home "  in  the  West.  While  not  a  man  of  strong 
local  attachments,  he  was  greatly  dependent  on  his 
surroundings.  He  never  worked  well,  except  in  the 
lead,  and  not  then,  if  hitched  with  a  balky  team. 
There  was  much,  at  that  time,  in  the  social  condition 
of  St.  Louis  which  must  have  chafed  and  worried 
him.  In  his  own  church,  there  were  restless  and 
contentious  elements  which  refused  to  bend  to  his 
kindly  sway.  His  moderation  was  a  frail  barrier 
when  set  against  the  dictatorial  spirit  of  extreme 
men.  He  was  never  an  expert  in  dealing  with 
cranky  and  factious  people.  Broad  and  progressive, 
he  was,  in  his  views ;  but  he  was  cautious  and  not 
quick  to  take  up  with  odd  and  new-fangled  projects. 
He  had  men  in  his  church  whose  notions  he  could 
not  adopt,  and  who  could  not  forgive  him  for  dis- 
agreeing with  them. 

This  made  his  situation  awkward,  and  put  a  strain 
upon  his  nerves  not  easy  to  bear.  His  former  lot 
had  been  cast  with  the  staid  and  easy-going  Virgin- 
ians, and  they  had  generally  treated  him  with  the 
utmost  forbearance  and  kindness.  It  jostled  him  out 
of  his  equanimity  to  be  confronted  by  the  sharp  and 
unyielding  spirit  of  the  new  West.  It  made  him 
restive  and  put  him  on  the  defensive. 

One  jarring  experience  he  had,  which  I  once  heard 
him  mention  with  gentle  and  unresentful  sorrow,  but 


240  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

which,  with  his  usual  delicacy,  he  omitted  from  his 
"  Recollections."  I  can  now  refer  to  it,  I  suppose, 
without  offence,  and  even  without  the  danger  of 
identifying  the  party  involved.  There  was  one 
brother,  then  a  conspicuous  figure  among  the  St. 
Louis  Baptists,  who  gave  him  serious  trouble.  It  was 
largely  through  his  efforts  that  Dr.  Jeter  was  in- 
duced to  consider  favorably  the  invitation  to  St. 
Louis.  He  was  profuse  in  his  protestations  of  friend- 
ship, and  was  unstinted  in  his  pledges  of  co-opera- 
tion and  support.  In  going  to  that  untried  and 
difficult  field,  the  Doctor  felt  quite  sure  that  there 
was  at  least  one  man  who  would  encircle  him  with 
his  sympathy  and  cheer  him  in  his  toils. 

But,  alas  !  that  brother's  friendship  was  as  the 
morning  cloud.  Soon  after  he  reached  St.  Louis, 
the  Doctor  found  that  his  ardor  was  beginning  to 
cool,  and  in  a  short  while  he  became  openly  hostile. 
He  was  soon  as  anxious  to  drive  the  pastor  out,  as  he 
had  been  eager  to  bring  him  in.  It  was  a  bitter 
ordeal ;  and  yet  what  pastor  has  not  known  the 
stings  of  such  fickle  and  faithless  men  ? 

Dr.  Jeter  was  never  a  man  of  affairs.  He  always 
said  that  he  did  not  have  time  to  make  money,  and 
for  the  details  of  business  he  had  neither  taste  nor 
skill.  It  happened  in  some  way,  however,  that 
during  his  residence  in  St.  Louis,  he  bought  a  few 
unoccupied  lots,  in  the  suburbs  of  the  city.  These 
he  held,  until  they  became  quite  valuable,  and  by 
their  sale,  he  realized  an  amount  which,  added  to  his 
regular  income,  enabled  him  in  his  later  years  to  live 
in  comfort,  and  even  in  modest  luxury. 


ST.  LOUIS  PASTORATE.  241 

In  1 852  he  paid  a  visit  to  his  friends  in  Richmond. 
He  preached  at  the  First  Church  on  Sunday  morn- 
ing, and  a  great  congregation  assembled  to  hear  him; 
but  it  proved  to  be  one  of  his  unlucky  days.  It  was 
expected  that  he  would  do  his  best,  but  he  fell  a 
victim  to  his  mental  caprices  and  went  utterly  to 
wreck.  After  announcing  his  text  and  dragging 
heavily  forward  for  a  while,  he  came  to  an  inglorious 
halt.  He  struggled  desperately  to  recover,  but  at 
length,  blind  with  confusion  and  chagrin,  he  asked 
the  choir  to  sing  a  hymn  and  took  his  seat.  Who 
the  chorister  of  that  memorable  occasion  was,  history 
has  forgotten  to  record,  but  it  is  amply  authenticated 
that  the  brother  responded  to  the  unexpected  call 
for  his  services  by  singing — 

"  I  love  to  steal  awhile  away." 

The  hit,  while  unintended,  was  so  crushingly  apt 
that  a  wave  of  surprised  laughter  rippled  over  the 
entire  audience.  As  he  walked  away  from  the 
church  the  Doctor  remarked  that  he  would  be  sorry 
to  think  that  the  Richmond  people  would  judge  his 
preaching  abilities  by  that  performance. 

They  did  not.  They  knew  him,  and  they  knew 
also  that  he  would  sometimes  fail  in  his  sermons. 
He  received  soon  after  a  gratifying  proof  that  he  was 
still  held  in  unabated  respect  by  the  Richmond  Bap- 
tists, in  the  call  which  was  extended  to  him  to  be- 
come the  pastor  of  the  Grace  Street  Church.  It  was 
an  unusual  tribute  that  he  was  chosen  to  be  pastor 
in  a  city  where  he  had  already  served  so  long. 
16 


CHAPTER  XL 

SEVENTEEN  YEAKS  AT  GRACE  STEEET  CHURCH. 

IN  the  early  autumn  of  1852  Dr.  Jeter  bade  fare- 
well to  St.  Louis,  and  turned  his  face  towards 
Virginia.  That  the  change  was  inexpressibly 
grateful  to  him,  we  can  easily  believe.  Not  that  he 
loved  Missouri  less,  but  Virginia  more.  The  three 
years  which  he  spent  in  the  West,  were  too  full  of 
earnest  activity  and  usefulness,  to  allow  him  to  be 
miserable.  He  never  consumed,  I  suppose,  one  hour 
in  empty  lamentations  or  in  anxious  scheming  to  get 
back  to  his  native  State.  He  always  looked  upon 
his  removal  to  St.  Louis,  as  a  manifest  allotment  of 
Providence,  and  accepted  it  in  a  spirit  of  quiet 
cheerfulness. 

But  his  heart  was  in  the  Old  Dominion.  There 
he  had  made  for  himself  a  place  which  fitted  him 
exactly,  and,  when  out  of  it,  he  was  unsphered.  It 
is  not  often  wise  for  a  minister,  after  passing  the 
meridian  of  life,  to  break  up  old  ties  and  enter 
a  new  country.  He  is  like  a  root  out  of  dry 
ground.  That  peculiar  environment  of  friendship, 
reputation  and  influence,  which  is  the  growth  of 
years,  never  goes  with  him,  and  without  it,  he  is 
never  fully  himself.  It  is  a  sad  day,  when  an  old 
man  undertakes  new  business  without  capital.  Dr. 
242 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        243 

Jeter  was  more  than  ordinarily  independent  of  out- 
ward supports,  and  was  never  unhappy  so  long  as 
he  was  closely  occupied.  And  yet  he  yearned  for 
that  matured  and  discriminating  sympathy  which  he 
could  not  find  among  new  friends.  He  needed  con- 
tact with  old  hearts.  I  doubt  not  that  the  happiest 
parts  of  the  three  years  given  to  St.  Louis,  were  those 
spent  in  visiting  his  friends  in  Virginia,  or  in  antici- 
pating or  recalling  those  visits.  I  have  reserved  for 
this  place,  one  of  his  letters  written  to  his  dear 
friend,  Mrs.  Archibald  Thomas,  in  1850,  in  which 
he  unveils  his  heart,  in  its  isolation  and  home-sickness. 


St.  Louis,  Mar.  6lh,  1850. 
Dear  Sister  Thomas  : 

I  have  been  intending  for  some  time  to  address  you  a  letter,  for 
the  purpose  of  assuring  you  that  your  kindness  to  me  made  an 
impression  on  my  heart  which  neither  distance,  nor  change  of 
circumstances,  can  efface.  I  should,  on  some  accounts,  have  been 
pleased  to  see  you  on  my  last  visit  to  Richmond,  but  the  inter- 
view would  have  added  to  the  pain  of  a  separation,  which,  as  it 
was,  was  quite  enough  for  me  to  bear.  I  have  not,  even  yet, 
gained  fortitude  sufficient  to  enable  me  to  recur  to  that  event 
with  composure.  I  am  very  sure  that  could  I  have  anticipated 
the  scene  which  occurred  in  the  First  Baptist  Church  when  I 
took  leave  of  the  members,  I  should  have  remained  in  Richmond. 
But  an  unseen  hand  guides  our  movements.  I  did  not  wish  to 
leave  Richmond ;  I  preferred  it  to  any  abode  on  earth  ;  and  yet 
influences  beyond  my  control  impelled  me  onward  to  my  decision. 
Eternity  will,  I  trust,  show  that  that  decision  was  right.  I  had 
been  long  in  Richmond ;  I  did  not  know  much  desire  was  felt  to 
retain  me  there;  it  was  known  that  I  had  been  invited  to  St. 
Louis ;  I  should  have  rejoiced  had  there  been  a  strong,  earnest 
and  general  demonstration  of  desire  for  me  to  remain ;  but  there 
was,  to  say  the  least,  an  indifference  which  I  interpreted  to  be  a 


244  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

clear  indication  of  my  duty  to  remove,  and  my  mind  once  made 
up,  the  thing  was  done. 

You  will  very  naturally  wish  to  learn  how  I  am  progressing 
here.  My  situation  is  as  pleasant  as,  in  the  absence  of  long-tried 
and  much-valued  friends,  it  could  be.  We  are  keeping  house,  aud 
paying  a  rent  of  $360  per  annum  for  a  house  about  equal  to  mine 
in  Richmond.  We  have  a  white  servant  — a  German  girl — who 
is  quite  equal  to  two  colored  servants.  Mrs.  Jeter  is  delighted 
with  housekeeping,  and  her  health  is  pretty  good.  A  niece  of 
hers  came  with  us  from  Bedford,  and  a  niece  of  mine  has  also 
spent  the  winter  with  us.  Our  church  is  in  a  very  encouraging 
state.  We  have  had  a  protracted  meeting  (it  is  just  now  sus- 
pended by  bad  weather),  during  which  21  have  been  baptized, 
many  added  by  letter  and  confession,  and  the  prospect  of  success 
is  still  fair.  The  church,  so  far  as  I  can  judge  of  it,  is  intelligent, 
harmonious,  efficient  and  affectionate.  I  have  a  magnificent  con- 
gregation, and  have  had  during  the  winter,  notwithstanding  the 
extreme  inclemency  of  the  weather ;  but  how  much  I  am  indebted 
to  the  curiosity  to  hear  a  strange  preacher  I  cannot  determine. 
The  prospect  of  a  large  and  uniform  congregation  is  good.  O, 
for  grace ! 

I  am  expecting  Mr.  Page  here  shortly,  on  his  way  to  California. 
Dr.  J.  H.  Temple  is  relinquishing  a  splendid  homoeopathic  prac- 
tice to  go  to  that  region  of  gold  and  illusions.  His  family  will 
all  be  broken  up  and  scattered.  Rebecca's  father  is  also  going, 
with  dreams  of  a  golden  harvest.  Indeed,  Missouri  is  about  to 
employ  half  her  male  population  in  the  gold  mines  of  California. 

St.  Louis  is  a  place  of  great  enterprise  and  rapidly-increasing 
wealth,  but  not  so  pleasant  a  residence  as  Richmond.  The  popu- 
lation is  a  mixture  of  French,  Germans,  Irish  and  Americans, 
collected  from  every  State  in  the  Union.  The  Americans,  how- 
ever, decidedly  preponderate  over  all  foreigners.  The  principal 
merchants  and  leading  men  are  Anglo-Americans,  and  they  have 
greatly  the  lead  in  social  influence.  Romanism  is  strong,  but  not 
destined,  so  far  as  I  can  observe,  to  increase  much  except  by  im- 
migration. Thousands  of  persons  who  come  to  this  country 
Romanists  become  first  irreligious,  and  are  afterwards  converted 
to  Protestantism.     But  there  is  a  great  work  to  be  done  in  this 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        245 

Western  Valley — a  mighty  conflict  to  take  place  between  error 
and  truth — nor  need  we  fear  the  result. 

Tell  the  Doctor  that  Homoeopathy  is  gaining  ground  here,  and 
that  its  triumphs  are  among  the  most  intelligent  classes  of  the 
community.  I  do  not  believe,  but  desire  that  its  lofty  pretensions 
may  be  well  founded.  Poor  Ward !  I  fear,  from  what  I  have 
seen,  that  he  has  been  a  sacrifice  on  the  altar  of  party  proscrip- 
tion.    I  am  sorry,  not  for  the  Whigs,  but  for  him. 

St.  Louis  has  been,  since  my  arrival  here,  the  healthiest  place 
I  have  ever  seen.  I  have  preached  but  one  funeral  in  our  con- 
gregation since  my  arrival,  and  in  all  only  two.  We  have,  at 
present,  no  indications  of  the  approach  of  cholera.  Mrs.  Jeter 
expects  to  pass  through  Richmond  in  May  or  June  en  route  to 
Bedford,  but  is  somewhat  uncertain.  My  love  to  all  your  family 
as  also  those  of  J.  Thomas  and  Bro.  Wortham.  How  gladly  would 
I  pass  a  Sabbath  in  Richmond  ! 

I  am,  with  the  highest  regard, 

Your  greatly  obliged  friend  and  brother, 

J.  B.  Jeter. 

P.  S. — I  had  well-nigh  forgotten,  though  specially  requested,  and 
most  sincerely,  I  have  no  doubt,  to  send  Mrs.  J.'s  love.  J. 

His  object  in  returning  to  Virginia  was  to  become 
the  pastor  of  the  Grace  Street  Baptist  Church  of 
Richmond. 

That  church  was  a  child  of  the  Second  Baptist 
Church.  It  was  the  offspring  of  a  cottage  prayer- 
meeting,  and  had  its  birth  in  a  private  house  on 
Duval  Street,  in  the  northwestern  part  of  the  city. 
When  first  organized,  it  assumed  the  name  of  the 
Third  Baptist  Church.  Although  it  was  then  small 
and  feeble,  it  had  some  choice  men  in  its  original 
constituency.  Among  these  it  is  pleasant  to  record 
the  names  of  Lewis  L.  Montague,  Geo.  Wood  fin,  Jno. 
B.  Valentine,  John  Jacob  and  Bro.  J.  Weisiger,  in 


246         LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

whose  parlor  the  church  was  organized.  In  a  little 
while,  it  outgrew  its  narrow  quarters,  and,  largely 
with  borrowed  money,  erected  a  plain  brick  house  of 
worship  at  the  corner  of  Marshall  and  Second  Streets, 
and  in  that  building  had  its  habitation  for  thirteen 
years. 

Its  first  pastor  was  Rev.  Henry  Keeling,  for  many 
years  a  prominent  figure  among  the  Richmond  Bap- 
tists. He  was  a  man  of  decided  literary  and  theo- 
logical culture,  and  was  best  known,  perhaps,  as 
editor  of  the  Baptist  Preacher,  a  sort  of  homiletical 
magazine  which  he  published.  From  all  I  can  learn, 
Mr.  Keeling,  though  pastor  from  1833  to  1837,  never 
became  very  intimately  identified  with  the  church. 
He  owned  and  occupied  a  handsome  brick  residence 
in  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  and  becoming  convinced 
that  his  people  were  careless  as  to  his  support, 
because  of  the  imposing  domicile  in  which  he  dwelt, 
he  addressed  them  a  caustic  letter,  in  which  he 
reminded  them  that  "  he  could  not  live  on  bricks  and 
mortar."  It  was  an  intimation  that  for  bread  they 
had  given  him  a  stone.  Possibly  the  church  felt 
willing,  after  that  letter,  for  him  to  try  the  experi- 
ment of  subsisting  on  those  innutritious  substances, 
for  it  was  not  long  before  their  connection  was  dis- 
solved. 

Upon"  his  retirement,  Rev.  Lewis  A.  Alderson 
became  pastor,  who,  after  one  year's  service,  went 
West,  where  he  had  a  long  and  honorable  career  as 
a  minister.  During  the  vacancy,  Rev.  R.  Ryland 
and  a  Mr.  Barker,  of  the  Virginia  Baptist  Seminary, 
alternately  supplied  the  pulpit. 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        247 

In  July,  1836,  Rev.  James  B.  Taylor,  just  then 
retiring  from  the  chaplaincy  of  the  University  of 
Virginia,  accepted  the  charge  of  the  church.  This 
was,  indeed,  a  fortunate  arrangement.  It  was  under 
his  excellent  training  that  the  Second  Church  had 
been  equipped  for  that  high  career  of  usefulness 
which  it  has  since  run,  and  now,  with  his  ripened 
experience,  systematic  habits,  and  almost  incompara- 
ble pastoral  tact,  he  came  to  perform  a  similar  ser- 
vice for  the  Third  Church. 

Dr.  Taylor  was  cautious  and  undemonstrative,  but 
he  was  a  great  leader.  He  reigned  supreme,  but  he 
was  careful  not  to  throw  out  the  ensigns  of  his 
authority.  He  gloved  his  iron  hand  in  velvet. 
Through  his  persuasion,  and  not  without  decided 
opposition,  on  the  part  of  some  brethren,  the  church 
abandoned  its  house  on  Marshall  Street,  crossed 
Broad,  and  erected  another  and  better  edifice  at  the 
corner  of  Grace  and  Foushee  Streets.  That  house 
is  an  abiding  monument  to  the  energy,  sagacity  and 
foresight  of  James  B.  Taylor.  He  marked  with  a 
prophet's  eye  the  coming  progress  of  the  city,  and 
seized  the  most  strategic  and  central  point  in  the  line 
of  that  progress,  for  the  location  of  the  new  house. 
Much  of  the  money  for  that  building  was  secured 
through  his  personal  efforts,  and  was  contributed  by 
persons  who  were  not  members  of  his  church,  and, 
in  many  cases,  not  Baptists  at  all.  When,  in  1845, 
the  church  took  possession  of  its  new  quarters,  its 
former  name  was  discarded,  and  it  became  the  Grace 
Street  Baptist  Church.  But  Dr.  Taylor  was  not 
destined  to  remain  with  the  church.    He  became  the 


248  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Corresponding  Secretary  of  the  Foreign  Mission 
Board  of  the  Southern  Baptist  Convention  in  1846, 
and  Rev.  David  Shaver  was  chosen  as  his  successor. 
Mr.  Shaver  was  a  brilliant  and  scholarly  man,  but  his 
pastorate  was  cut  short  by  ill  health.  Ever  since  he 
has  been  debarred  from  the  pulpit  by  throat  troubles, 
but  he  has  won  distinction  in  the  sphere  of  Christian 
journalism.  He  still  lives,  and  is  at  this  writing 
connected  with  the  Christian  Index  of  Atlanta,  Ga. 

He  was  followed  in  the  pastorate  of  the  church 
by  Dr.  Edward  Kingsford.  He  was  an  English- 
man, of  generous  culture  and  high  Christian  char- 
acter. He  was  also  an  able  preacher  and,  unlike 
Dr.  Taylor,  rigid  and  severe  in  his  methods.  He 
had  the  eye  of  a  critic,  and  against  that  which 
seemed  wrong  in  his  sight  he  was  never  slow  to  utter 
his  censure.  With  his  exacting  and  imperious  spirit, 
it  was  not  easy  to  maintain  harmony  with  an  insti- 
tution so  intensely  democratic  as  an  American  Bap- 
tist Church.  After  a  useful  and,  in  the  main,  har- 
monious pastorate  of  several  years,  he  resigned  in 
the  spring  of  1852. 

I  may  pause  here  to  say  that  I  never  saw  Dr. 
Kingsford  but  once.  That  was  in  the  chapel  at 
Richmond  College,  probably  in  1857,  when  he  deliv- 
ered an  address  to  the  ministerial  students.  His 
picture,  as  he  stood  on  the  little  platform,  is  printed 
distinctly  on  my  memory.  To  my  boyish  eye,  he  was 
the  perfection  of  ministerial  dignity— in  dress  fault- 
less, in  manner  solemn  and  lofty,  and  with  a  face 
betokening  immense  conviction  and  unbending  will. 
He  was  thick-set,  well-rounded,  cleanly  shaven,  with 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        249 

a  tinge  of  British  floridity  in  his  complexion,  a 
neatly-fitting  wig  and  a  snowy  cravat,  and  was  then 
probably  sixty  years  of  age.  From  his  address,  a 
half-hour  in  length,  I  learned  more  as  to  the  ambi- 
tious conceits,  crooked  devices  and  ugly  jealousies 
of  preachers  than  I  had  learned  in  all  my  previous 
life.  It  was  a  strong  address,  but  too  severely  criti- 
cal and  sarcastic,  to  be  well  suited  to  a  lot  of  simple- 
hearted  college  boys. 

It  was  a  noteworthy  coincidence  that  in  each  of 
his  Richmond  pastorates  Dr.  Jeter  had  an  English- 
man for  his  predecessor. 

He  received  his  call  to  the  Grace  Street  Church 
while  on  a  visit  to  Virginia  in  1852.  It  has  been 
hinted  that  the  church  was  influenced,  in  part,  at 
least,  in  selecting  him  for  its  pastor,  by  the  hope  that 
many  members  of  the  First  Church,  resident  in  the 
western  part  of  the  city,  would  cast  their  lots  with 
him  in  his  new  field.  He,  too,  may  have  cherished 
this  hope,  and  if  he  did,  he  ought  not  to  be  blamed, 
for  at  that  time  the  church  was  not  strong,  either  in 
wealth  or  numbers. 

If  he  and  his  people  had  flattered  themselves  with 
this  hope,  they  were  doomed  to  disappointment. 
The  ecclesiastical  tie  is  usually  stronger  than  that 
which  exists  between  the  pastor  and  the  people. 
And  it  ought  to  be.  It  is  said  that  at  the  time  of 
his  installation,  Dr.  Ryland,  with  that  bluntness  of 
speech  which  is  a  part  of  himself,  curtly  announced 
that  it  need  not  be  expected  that  the  First  Church 
would  furnish  any  recruits  for  the  re-enforcement  of 
Grace  Street.     He  said  they  were  not  coming,  and 


250  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

they  did  not.  Mr.  Sands  has  said  facetiously  that 
Dr.  Byland  must  have  been  a  prophet,  inasmuch  as 
only  one  member  of  the  First  Church  ever  followed 
Dr.  Jeter,  and  that  was  an  accomplished  and  lovely 
Christian  woman,  who,  in  after-years,  became,  first 
the  mistress  of  his  heart,  and  then  a  member  of  his 
flock.  The  record  shows  that  there  were  occasional 
transfers  of  membership  from  the  First  to  Grace 
Street,  but  they  were  made  for  convenience,  and  not 
through  his  solicitations.  But  Dr.  Jeter  had  no 
reason  for  discouragement.  While  his  new  charge 
was  not  so  conspicuous  or  wealthy  as  the  old,  there 
was  much  in  it  to  enlist  his  heart  and  inspire  his 
hopes. 

He  found  himself  sustained  by  an  excellent  corps 
of  Christian  workers.  John  B.  Valentine,  one  of  his 
oldest  members,  was  a  brother  of  unique  character. 
Dr.  Jeter  said  of  him,  at  his  funeral,  that  he  was 
cast  in  a  rugged  mould,  and,  but  for  the  grace  of 
God,  would  have  been  a  dangerous  man.  He  pos- 
sessed a  blunt,  but  kindly  sort  of  piety,  a  wonderful 
memory,  and  was  looked  upon  as  an  animated  Bibli- 
cal encyclopaedia.  He  was  an  eagle-eyed  listener,  and 
would  not  hesitate  to  rise  to  his  feet  in  the  midst  ol 
a  sermon  and  say :  "  Bro.  Jeter,  you  did  not  quote 
that  Scripture  correctly."     But  he  did  it  pleasantly. 

John  Jacob  and  his  son,  Caleb,  were  then  promi- 
nent in  the  councils  of  the  church — both  deacons, 
and  men  of  earnest  devotion. 

Wellington  Goddin,  another  deacon,  was  in  his 
prime.  Rich,  spotless  in  his  life,  trustful  and  trusted, 
an  ardent  lover  of  his  church,  he  knew  no  higher 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        251 

honor  than  to  uphold  Dr.  Jeter  in  every  enterprise. 
Prof.  Geo.  E.  Dabney,  of  Richmond  College,  was  a 
gentleman  of  classic  tastes  and  deep  piety — never 
notably  active,  but  always  on  hand  and  true.  Dr. 
A.  J.  Coons,  who  followed  Dr.  Jeter  from  St.  Louis, 
was  a  courtly  man,  a  confidential  friend  and  ready 
helper  of  his  pastor.  John  E.  Henderson,  while 
irascible  in  his  temper,  was  so  evidently  sincere, 
conscientious  and  attentive,  that  he  was  of  great 
value  in  the  church.  It  was,  as  I  can  gratefully 
testify,  his  peculiar  joy  to  help  his  pastor. 

A.  H.  Sands,  then  a  gifted  young  lawyer,  was 
chosen  a  deacon  soon  after  Dr.  Jeter  came,  and  was, 
perhaps,  the  most  intellectual  and  progressive  leader 
in  the  church.  To  this  list  ought  to  be  added  many 
others — the  Rylands,  Crutchfields,  Evanses,  Minors, 
Manlys,  Starkes,  etc.,  who  accorded  to  the  pastor 
the  highest  and  most  affectionate  support.  They 
revered  his  character,  admired  his  preaching  and 
delighted  to  honor  him.  They  esteemed  it  a  rare 
fortune  to  have  him  for  their  pastor. 

The  joy  of  his  pastorate  was  vastly  enhanced  by 
having  in  his  church  Dr.  J.  B.  Taylor  and  his  devout 
and  exemplary  family.  This  household  accorded  to 
him  thorough  and  affectionate  sympathy.  Soon  after 
he  came  to  the  church  he  was  gladdened  by  the 
accession  of  Dr.  A.  M.  Poindexter  to  its  membership. 
Dr.  Poindexter  was  one  of  his  most  beloved  friends, 
a  man  so  intensely  intellectual  and  metaphysical  in 
his  order  of  mind,  that  his  presence  was  a  perpetual 
inspiration  to  Dr.  Jeter. 

These  fragmentary  statements,  while  they  give  an 


252  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

inadequate  description  of  the  church,  will  at  least 
indicate  the  high  and  stimulating  quality  of  the  con- 
gregation. In  preaching  to  such  people,  Dr.  Jeter 
felt  that  his  best  efforts  were  appreciated. 

It  is  creditable  to  Dr.  Kingsford  that,  when  he  ascer- 
tained that  Dr.  Jeter  was  to  be  his  successor,  he  worked 
with  great  diligence  to  cleanse  the  church  of  certain 
disorders  which  then  existed.  In  this  unselfish 
undertaking  he  was  eminently  successful. 

When  Dr.  Jeter  came  he  found  the  church  in 
excellent  condition.  Dr.  Kingsford  was  a  man  of 
peculiar  mould — rigid  and  censorious  in  his  very 
nature,  and  on  some  questions  he  and  Dr.  Jeter 
differed  very  widely,  but  he  was  a  man  of  lofty 
Christian  principle,  and  not  really  capable  of  an 
ignoble  act.  It  is  one  of  the  tests  of  a  true  pastor, 
that  he  is  ready,  in  good  faith,  to  pave  the  way  for 
the  success  of  the  man  who  is  to  come  after  him. 
That  Dr.  Kingsford  did. 

In  entering  on  his  work  Dr.  Jeter  found  quite  a 
debt  upon  the  church,  but  in  a  little  while  it  was 
removed.  With  this  burden  off,  he  addressed  him- 
self to  the  task  of  enlarging  the  capacity  and  im- 
proving the  appearance  of  the  church  building.  A 
handsome  portico  was  built  in  front,  side  galleries 
were  added,  and  other  changes  made  which  greatly 
increased  the  comfort  and  attractiveness  of  the  house. 

In  calling  him,  the  church  offered  a  salary  of  $1000. 
This,  he  said  in  his  letter  of  acceptance,  was  inade- 
quate for  his  support,  and  for  purposes  of  beneficence 
or  hospitality ;  but  as  it  was  as  much  as  the  church 
could  safely  promise,  he  would  try  to  live  on  it. 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        253 

It  seems  to  be  agreed  generally  that  the  time  spent 
at  the  Grace  Street  Church  was  in  many  respects  the 
most  useful  portion  of  Dr.  Jeter's  life.  He  was  just 
fifty  years  of  age  when  he  returned  from  the  West. 
His  health  was  well-nigh  perfect,  his  mind  was-  at 
the  zenith  of  its  power,  and  his  field  was  fresh  and 
inviting.  The  older  people  say  that  he  did  the  best 
preaching  of  his  life  at  Grace  Street.  He  sometimes 
undertook  serial  sermons,  and  while  they  were 
thoroughly  prepared  and  full  of  instruction,  they 
were  not  generally  popular.  He  always  had  full 
congregations  in  the  morning,  but  it  often  came  to 
pass  that  his  evening  services  were  thinly  attended. 
This  did  not  seem  to  discourage  him.  He  was  a 
sober,  real  man,  who  was  not  much  affected  by 
appearances.  The  main  point  with  him  was  to  do 
his  part  well. 

It  frequently  happens  that  men  do  their  best  work 
in  a  quiet  and  unnoticed  way.  Dr.  Jeter's  career  at 
Grace  Street  was  not  brilliant.  He  had  then  passed 
the  more  ambitious  and  popular  point  in  his  course. 
He  enjoyed  a  national  fame,  and  was  greatly  beloved 
by  the  denomination  to  which  he  belonged.  He  had 
been  successful  so  long,  that  it  was  assumed  that  he 
would  succeed  in  all  that  he  undertook.  It  is  not 
easy,  therefore,  to  make  the  reader  understand  the 
value  of  his  achievements  in  his  last  pastorate. 

It  is  simple  justice  to  say,  however,  that  the  church 
was  uniformly  prosperous  under  his  administration. 
It  was  his  custom  to  hold  annually  a  protracted 
meeting,  and  for  those  special  services  he  always 
made  it  a  point  to  secure  ministerial  help.     He  never 


254  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

seemed  willing  to  undertake  a  meeting  alone.  In 
1824  I  entered  Richmond  College,  and,  while  there, 
attended  two  of  his  meetings.  They  were  both 
excellent  in  their  methods  and  results.  In  one  he 
was  aided  by  Dr.  Cornelius  Tyree,  a  noble  preacher, 
whose  evangelical  labors  have  won  thousands  of  souls 
to  Christ ;  in  the  other  he  had  Rev.  J.  A.  Broaddus, 
then  the  brilliant  young  pastor  of  the  Charlottesville 
Baptist  Church.  He  attracted  vast  congregations, 
and  his  simple  and  eloquent  sermons  moved  the 
people  wonderfully.  But  it  is  no  disparagement  to 
those  brethren  to  say  that  nothing  seemed  to  stir 
sinners  so  mightily  as  Dr.  Jeter's  after-talks.  His 
exhortations,  when  he  was  thoroughly  aroused,  were 
simply  overwhelming.  In  his  several  other  meetings 
he  had  the  help  of  J.  L.  Reynoldson,  T.  W.  Greer, 
Daniel  Witt,  A.  M.  Poindexter  and  others. 

During  his  pastorate  a  colony  went  out  from  the 
Grace  Street  Church  and  established  itself  near  the 
corner  of  Clay  and  Fourth  Streets.  It  occupied  a 
neat  frame  building,  and  was  known  as  the  Fourth 
Street  Baptist  Church.  It  elected  Rev.  E.  J.  Willis 
as  its  pastor,  and  began  its  course  as  a  "  Test 
Church."  It  ran  well  until  the  war,  and  then  it 
passed  out  of  existence. 

That  organization  had  a  peculiar  history,  and  in- 
asmuch as  Dr.  Jeter  was  closely  connected  with  it, 
some  of  the  principal  and  related  facts  must  be  given 
here. 

Dr.  Kingsford  was  an  ultra-temperance  man.  He 
maintained  that  no  church  member  should  be  allowed 
to  engage  in  the  liquor  traffic,  and  for  the  habitual 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        255 

or  moderate  drinker  he  had  no  toleration.  So  strong 
were  his  convictions,  and  so  stern  and  pertinacious 
was  he  in  the  advocacy  of  his  views,  that  he  suc- 
ceeded, in  a  large  measure,  in  making  his  church  a 
total  abstinence  body.  At  least  the  temperance  sen- 
timent, if  not  predominant,  was  intense,  outspoken 
and  aggressive.  The  church  was  not  a  "  test  church  " 
by  any  formal  legislation,  but  practically  it  fell  not 
far  short  of  it. 

It  may  be  well  to  explain  here  what  was  meant 
by  a  "  test  church."  At  that  time  the  temperance 
conflict  had  taken  on  a  peculiar  aspect  in  some 
portions  of  Virginia.  The  popular  agitation  on 
the  question  had,  naturally  enough,  gone  into  the 
churches,  and  not  a  few  of  them  had  adopted  a  rule 
denying  membership  to  all  persons  who  would  not 
abstain  from  the  sale  or  use  of  strong  drink.  It 
became  a  pivotal  issue,  and  was  made  a  test  of  fellow- 
ship. It  was  called  the  "  test  question,"  and  those 
churches  adopting  it  were  known  as  "test  churches." 

Dr.  Jeter  had  a  singular  experience  in  connection 
with  the  Temperance  Reformation  in  Virginia.  It 
is  due  to  him  to  say  that  he  was,  from  the  beginning 
of  his  public  career,  a  temperance  man.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  history,  he  and  Daniel  Witt,  in  that  simple 
agreement  into  which  they  entered  in  the  days  of 
their  youth  to  abstain  from  all  intoxicating  drinks, 
formed  what  was  the  first  temperance  society  ever 
known  in  the  State  of  Virginia.  That  compact  was 
not  intended  as  a  reformatory  measure,  but  as  a 
covenant  between  themselves,  and  designed  only  for 
their  own  benefit. 


256  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Abner  W.  Clopton,  who  was  really  the  founder 
and  leader  of  the  Temperance  Reformation  in  Vir- 
ginia, admitted  that  he  received  his  first  suggestion 
as  to  the  propriety  of  total  abstinence  from  Daniel 
Witt.  Under  Clopton's  bold  and  contagious  cham- 
pionship, a  splendid  crusade  against  alcohol  and  all 
its  attendant  evils  was  waged  in  the  State.  That 
movement  was  only  a  formal  attempt,  to  apply  the 
principle  which  had  prompted  the  two  Bedford  boys 
to  make  their  mutual  pledge. 

Jeter  and  Witt  entered  the  contest  with  ardent 
enthusiasm.  They  fought  side  by  side  with  Clopton 
and  other  good  men,  for  the  rescue  of  the  people  from 
the  bondage  of  drunkenness.  In  those  days  this 
odious  and  destructive  vice  infested  the  churches 
and  found  sanction  in  almost  every  home.  It  was 
a  terrible  evil,  and  was  rendered  all  the  more  deadly 
by  the  fact  that  it  was  supported  by  the  religious 
sentiment  of  the  times.  Men  and  women,  and  even 
Christian  ministers,  freely  indulged  in  this  insidious 
and  debasing  habit,  without  losing  their  positions, 
either  in  society  or  in  the  churches.  Even  Clopton 
himself,  the  apostle  of  temperance  in  Virginia,  drank 
habitually,  though  not  excessively,  at  the  time  he 
began  his  movement  in  favor  of  reformation.  When, 
in  1825,  he  first  met  Daniel  Witt,  he  was  astonished 
to  find  that  he  was  totally  abstinent;  but  while  he 
approved  his  course,  he  did  not  at  once  follow  his 
example. 

But  Clopton  was  a  bold  and  decided  man.  When 
once  he  broke  his  chains,  he  became  an  uncompro- 
mising enemy  of  intemperance  in  every  form.     He 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        257 

organized  the  "  Virginia  Society  for  the  Promotion 
of  Temperance,"  and  opened  the  campaign  in  dead 
earnest.  He  was  at  once  confronted  by  the  most 
formidable  and  even  malignant  opposition.  Churches, 
ministers,  politicians,  distillers,  drunkards,  and  even 
many  gentle  women,  joined  battle  against  him.  The 
excitement  was  wide-spread  and  bitter.  In  that 
memorable  conflict  Dr.  Jeter  bore  an  active  and 
eminent  part. 

He  was  looked  upon  as  a  leader  in  the  temperance 
"  craze,"  and  was  often  branded  as  an  extremist  and 
fanatic. 

The  result  was  a  revolution.  The  reformers  won 
the  battle.  A  temperance  revival  swept  the  coun- 
try, and  public  sentiment  was  re-cast.  Various  or- 
ganizations intended  to  aid  the  good  cause  sprang 
into  existence.  Lodges,  mass-meetings,  regalia,  ban- 
ners, picnics  and  celebrations  became  the  fashion  of 
the  times.  The  temperance  orator  was  the  reigning 
sensation. 

In  a  little  while,  extreme  and  violent  men  crowded 
the  ranks  of  the  reformers  and  clamored  for  the  mas- 
tery. Temperance  itself  went  mad,  and  was  put  to 
shame  in  the  house  of  its  friends.  Dissension  arose 
among  the  leaders.  Jeter,  alarmed  by  the  extrava- 
gance and  fanaticism  of  certain  prominent  advocates 
of  the  cause,  came  to  a  pause.  He  could  not  sanction 
some  of  the  methods  then  in  vogue  for  the  overthrow 
of  alcohol.  He  never  modified  his  convictions,  but 
he  became  so  moderate  and  conservative  in  his  modes 
of  warfare  that  the  extremists  fell  out  with  him. 
He  was  practically  ruled  out  as  an  apostate  by  the 
17 


258  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

more  advanced  friends  of  the  reformation.  His 
name  was  not  accounted  worthy  of  mention  in  con- 
nection with  a  revolution  of  which  he  was  really  one 
of  the  chief  authors, 

I  do  not  mean  to  defend  all  of  Dr.  Jeter's  positions 
on  the  liquor  question.  It  is  possible  that  in  his 
contest  with  the  extreme  wing  of  the  reformers  he 
became  a  little  extreme  in  his  conservatism,  and  was 
driven  into  positions  untenable  and  dangerous.  It 
may  have  been  that  his  attitude  was  unconsciously 
modified  by  the  fact  that,  when  he  came  to  the  pas- 
torate of  the  First  Church,  he  found  some  of  the 
most  prominent,  devout  and  useful  men  engaged  in 
the  liquor  traffic.  For  these  men  he  had  sincere  re- 
spect, and  possibly  looked  too  forbearingly  upon  their 
business  because  he  loved  them. 

On  a  question  like  this  the  best  men  often  part. 
Find  an  evidently  good  man  with  a  marked  sin  or  a 
wrong  business,  put  him  on  trial,  and  it  will  always 
happen  that  a  Christian  jury  will  disagree.  Some 
will  look  at  the  man's  fault,  and  be  willing  to  de- 
stroy the  man  in  order  to  get  rid  of  his  sin  ;  others 
will  love  the  man,  and  be  ready  to  condone  his  sin 
because  of  that  love ;  while  yet  others  abhor  the  sin 
and  faithfully  strive  to  save  the  man. 

It  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  Dr.  Jeter  allowed 
his  love  of  men  and  his  hopeful  nature  to  render  him 
too  lenient  and  tolerant  in  his  views  of  certain 
amusements  and  certain  forms  of  business.  At  any 
rate,  he  convinced  himself  that  it  was  not  sinful  or 
even  improper  for  Christian  men  to  make  or  sell  ar- 
dent spirits,  and  while  he  urged  men   not  to  drink, 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRA.CE  STREET  CHURCH.        259 

he  was  utterly  opposed  to  their  exclusion  from  the 
church  so  long  as  they  drank  in  moderation. 

He  and  Dr.  Kingsford  had  a  sharp  newspaper  con- 
troversy on  the  ecclesiastical  aspects  of  the  temper- 
ance question.  1  need  hardly  say  that  it  ended 
where  it  began,  so  far  as  the  disputants  were  con. 
cerned,  except,  possibly,  that  Jeter  was  made  more 
conservative,  and  Kingsford  more  emphatic  and  ex- 
treme. 

When  Dr.  Jeter  came  to  his  Grace  Street  charge, 
he,  of  course,  brought  with  him  his  peculiar  views  on 
this  vexatious  question.  But  he  found  the  church 
in  quite  a  different  mood.  The  impress  of  Dr.  Kings- 
ford was  upon  it.  It  was  not  long  before  he  and  his 
brethren  were  brought  face  to  face  on  the  question 
as  to  whether  a  liquor-seller  ought  to  be  received 
into  the  church.  A  certain  Baptist  brother,  in  that 
unfortunate  business,  indicated  a  desire  to  join  the 
church.  Dr.  Jeter  openly  favored  his  reception, 
maintaining  that  he  was  a  good  man,  a  true  Baptist, 
and  ought  not  to  be  denied  fellowship. 

But  some  of  his  people  were  against  him.  The 
brother  was  not  allowed  to  come  in.  The  Doctor 
took  it  to  heart,  and  did  not  acquiesce  in  the  wishes 
of  his  brethren.  He  argued,  agitated  and  persevered 
until  a  majority  came  into  sympathy  with  his  views. 

It  was  a  costly  triumph.  It  gave  deep  distress  to 
some  of  his  people,  and  produced,  temporarily,  griev- 
ous estrangements.  The  offended  element,  no  long- 
er happy  under  his  reign,  determined  to  withdraw, 
and  the  result  was  the  organization  of  the  "  test 
church"  already  mentioned. 


260  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Upon  the  dismemberment  of  this  church,  a  few 
years  afterwards,  its  leading  spirits  quietly  returned 
to  the  mother  church,  and  became  earnest  and  lov- 
ing supporters  of  the  old  pastor.  It  is  bad  enough 
that  these  collisions  between  pastors  and  people 
sometimes  come,  but  let  us  thank  the  Lord  that  they 
do  not  last  forever. 

In  dismissing  this  subject,  I  must  repeat  that,  in 
my  humble  judgment,  some  of  Dr.  Jeter's  positions 
were  illogical  and  dangerous  in  their  influence.  If 
all  men  had  been  as  pure  and  self-mastered  as  he 
was,  his  teachings  would  have  been  exactly  suited  to 
their  wants.  In  basing  his  arguments  upon  what 
he  was,  he  drew  conclusions  which  did  not  meet  the 
exigencies  of  weak  and  tempted  men.  His  temper- 
ance creed  was  ample  for  him,  but  when  feebler  men 
undertook  to  live  by  it  they  sometimes  fell.  It  often 
happened  that  unscrupulous  whiskey-traders  and 
besotted  wine-bibbers  seized  his  premises,  and  worked 
out  conclusions  which  bolstered  them  in  wrong-doing. 
We  may  not  help  a  good  cause  by  harsh  and  ex- 
treme methods,  but  we  may  easily  injure  it  by  a  too 
amiable  and  incautious  conservatism. 

Dr.  Jeter's  pastorate  at  Grace  Street  included  the 
four  years  of  the  civil  war.  In  a  brief  historical 
sketch  which  the  church  put  forth  in  1867,  grateful 
mention  is  made  of  the  fact  that  the  pastor  stood 
faithfully  at  his  post  during  all  those  days  of  alarm, 
privation  and  danger. 

His  young  men,  of  course,  joined  the  Southern 
Army,  and  his  church  was  sadly  crippled  in  its  en- 
terprises and  resources.     He  had,  at  the  time,  an  in- 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        261 

adequate  income,  but  he  bore  his  ills  and  necessities 
with  cheerfulness.  He  did  little  more  than  to  hold 
the  church  together,  cheer  his  people  in  their  fears 
and  sorrows,  and  encourage  them  to  wait  for  brighter 
times.  He  did  not  lack  a  congregation  during  the 
war.  While  his  own  people  were  scattered,  the  city 
was  thronged  with  soldiers,  government  operatives 
and  refugees. 

He  was  kept  busy  by  the  constant  demands  upon 
his  services.  He  was  flooded  with  letters  from  every 
part  of  the  country,  bespeaking  his  attentions  to  the 
sick,  the  wounded  and  the  strangers  in  the  city. 
He  was  never  connected  in  any  way  with  the  army. 
He  occasionally  went  out  and  preached  to  the  soldiers 
in  their  encampments.  He  was  also  very  consider- 
ate in  his  attentions  to  those  who  were  confined  in 
the  hospitals  and  prisons.  I  remember  that  I  accom- 
panied him  on  one  occasion  in  a  visit  to  Libby  Pri- 
son. A  son  of  Dr.  Barnas  Sears  was  an  inmate  of  that 
oft-maligned  institution,  and  his  father  wrote  to  the 
Doctor,  asking  him  to  visit  him.  It  was  a  pleasant 
interview.  Dr.  Jeter  spoke  to  the  young  man  of  his 
father  in  the  most  cordial  terms,  and  offered  to  ren- 
der him  any  relief  or  aid  that  was  proper  or  practi- 
cable. 

As  an  original  question,  he  was  opposed  to  seces- 
sion. He  deplored  the  necessity  for  war,  and  sought 
in  his  way  to  prevent  it.  If  all  men  had  possessed 
his  pacific  and  Christly  temper,  the  country  would 
never  have  been  torn  by  strife  or  stained  with  blood. 
But  he  went  with  his  people.  He  was  emphatically 
a  war  man.     Espousing  the  Southern  cause,  he  ar- 


262  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

dently  prayed  for  the  success  of  the  Confederate  arms. 
He  watched  the  course  of  events  with  profound  solici- 
tude, rejoicing  over  victories,  mourning  over  defeats 
and  cherishing  hopes,  even  in  the  midst  of  thicken- 
ing disasters.  But  he  was  not  bitter ;  this  he  could 
not  be.  For  those  against  him  he  had  no  enmity, 
and  never  uttered  malignant  prayers.  He  loved  his 
chosen  cause,  but  he  had  no  curses  for  his  enemies. 

The  Richmond  people  will  never  forget  one  laugh- 
able incident  in  the  Doctor's  war  record.     For  seve- 
ral weeks  after  the  secession  of  Virginia  the  city  of 
Richmond  was  filled  with  wild  and  alarming  rumors. 
Everything  was  involved  in  chaos.     No  one   knew 
what  was  to  be,  and  in  the  excited  state  of  the  popu- 
lar mind  even  the  wildest  and  most  incredible  stor- 
ies were  readily  believed.    One  Sunday  afternoon  the 
report  spread  through  the  city  that  the  "  Pawnee," 
a    United    States   war   vessel,  was   coming   up   the 
James  River,  with  a  view  of  bombarding  the  city. 
The  people  were  filled   with  consternation.     There 
were  really  no  arrangements  for  defence  against  this 
sudden  visit  of  the  wicked  "  Pawnee." 

Two  or  three  military  companies  were  sent  down 
the  river  to  occupy  the  heights  with  their  flying 
artillery,  and  do  what  they  could  to  drive  back  the 
invader.  Every  man's  conduct  on  the  occasion  was 
the  dictate  of  his  own  feelings.  Some  fled,  some 
gave  way  to  helpless  fear,  some  climbed  the  hills  to 
see  what  was  coming  and  some  armed  for  the  fray. 
Of  this  valiant  and  heroic  class  Dr.  Jeter  was  a  shin- 
ing representative.  He  secured  an  old  shot-gun, 
which,  some  said,  was  without  lock  or  load,  and  set 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        263 

forth  for  the  scene  of  war.  It  must  have  been  a 
curious  sight,  'indeed,  to  behold  him  on  a  Sunday 
afternoon,  double-quicking  down  Broad  Street  with 
an  empty  shot-gun,  going  alone  to  engage  a  United 
States  man-of-war. 

This  story  enjoyed  a  wide  circulation,  and  took  on 
various  additions  as  it  went.  He  was  often  rallied 
on  the  subject,  but  took  it  in  the  brightest  humor. 
He  said  that  he  did  not  know  that  he  could  render 
any  valuable  aid  in  repelling  the  threatened  attack, 
but  that  in  such  an  emergency  it  became  every  citi- 
zen to  do  his  part,  and  that  he  hoped  at  least  that 
his  example  might  quicken  the  courage  of  others. 

On  the  19th  of  August,  1861,  his  home  was  once 
more  rendered  desolate  by  the  ruthless  invasion  of 
death.  Mrs.  Charlotte  E.  Jeter,  his  third  wife,  died 
after  a  lingering  illness,  at  the  home  of  her  mother  in 
Bedford.  For  more  than  twelve  years — among  the 
most  eventful  and  happy  of  his  life — she  had  shared 
his  burdens  and  honors.  She  was  a  charming  wo- 
man, not  highly  cultivated,  but  gently  reared,  lovely 
in  person,  full  of  quiet  self-respect,  ardent  in  her 
attachments,  almost  unduly  candid  in  her  manner, 
devoted  to  her  home,  not  given  to  extravagance, 
modestly  proud  of  her  husband  and  ever  ambitious 
of  his  success.  In  his  saintly  companionship  she 
grew  steadily  in  spirituality  and  usefulness.  The 
Doctor  was  greatly  devoted  to  her,  and  her  death 
was  a  grievous  blow  to  him. 

In  the  summer  of  1862  I  was  with  him  in  Powha- 
tan County,  and  one  evening,  at  the  supper  table, 
some  members  of  the  company  ventured  to  banter 


264  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

him  on  the  subject  of  matrimony.  The  untimely  jest 
transfixed  his  heart,  and,  dropping  his  knife  and  fork, 
he  said,  as  if  in  a  reverie, — "  Ah,  my  noble,  faithful 
wife !  how  gladly  I  would  walk  around  this  world, 
barefoot  and  alone,  to  see  her  again  !  "  The  outburst 
of  emotion  was  so  sudden  and  real  in  its  excitement, 
that  it  hushed  the  playful  company  into  silence. 

By  her  death  his  home  was  shattered,  and  during 
much  of  the  time  that  he  was  a  widower,  he  found 
a  congenial  retreat  in  the  family  of  Deacon  Welling- 
ton Goddin.  In  her  dying  moment,  his  second  wife 
had  tenderly  commended  him  to  the  care  of  Mrs. 
Archibald  Thomas,  in  whose  sympathy  he  found  the 
sweetest  solace.  It  was  a  providence,  equally  gra- 
cious, which,  in  the  sorrow  that  fell  upon  him  in 
1861,  threw  him  into  the  household  of  the  Godclin's, 
— a  gentle,  beautiful  family  it  was,  bound  to  him  by 
strongest  ties,  and  ever  happy  in  ministering  to  his 
wants. 

It  is  painful  to  reflect  that,  in  the  eyes  of  coarse 
and  suspicious  people,  Dr.  Jeter's  domestic  character 
was  often  misunderstood.  From  his  frequent  mar- 
riages, they  were  quick  to  judge  that  he  was  a  man 
of  shallow  sensibilities,  and  not  capable  of  ardent 
attachments  or  deep  sorrows.  Such  a  thought  was 
injustice  to  him.  His  conjugal  relations  were  always 
happy,  and  in  the  loss  of  his  several  wives,  he  suf- 
fered an  anguish  which  only  a  true  and  real  man 
can  know.  When  bereft  of  wifely  fellowship  and 
sympathy,  his  isolation  was  simply  intolerable.  He 
was  obliged  by  the  very  necessities  of  being,  to  ap- 
peal for  support  and  cheer  to  those  whose  love  he 
could  safely  trust. 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        265 

After  his  bereavement  he  quietly  resumed  his 
pastoral  tasks,  and  did  what  he  could  for  his  Master 
under  all  the  excitements  of  the  times.  The  war 
was  raging,  and  the  beleaguered  city  was  a  scene  of 
perpetual  alarm  and  uproar. 

Many  of  his  friends  had  fled  from  the  city,  and  he 
felt  keenly  the  loneliness  of  his  situation.  Mrs. 
Archibald  Thomas  and  her  family  had  sought  a 
refuge  at  Pittsylvania  Court-House,  and  had  left 
their  beautiful  mansion,  at  the  corner  of  Marshall 
and  Second  Streets,  in  charge  of  Mrs.  Mary  C.  Dabbs. 
This  accomplished  Christian  woman  was  destined  to 
exert  a  marked  influence  over  the  events  of  his  later 
life.  I  introduce  here  several  letters  written  about 
this  time  to  Mrs.  Thomas,  or  her  son-in-law,  Dr. 
Wortham.  These,  written  in  the  freedom  of  friend- 
ship, and  with  no  thought  of  publication,  will  indi- 
cate his  character  as  a  letter-writer,  while  they  will 
also  attest  the  strength  of  his  devotion  to  Mrs. 
Thomas  and  her  household.  They  furnish  also  a 
vivid  picture  of  the  grim  times  of  war,  and  show 
with  what  feelings  he  watched  the  conflict  when  at 
its  worst.  They  will  also  enable  the  reader  to  see 
how  gradually  his  heart  went  out  again  in  search  of 
one  who  would  gladden  him  with  the  smile  of  her 
love,  and  how,  in  God's  kind  providence,  he  found 
her. 

Richmond,  June  15,  1862. 
Dear  Brother  Wortham  : 

I  assure  you  that  the  kind  regards  of  yourself  and  your  family, 
and  of  Sister  Thomas,  are  cordially  reciprocated  by  me.  I  was 
delighted  to  receive  a  letter  from  you,  but  the  pleasure  was  some- 
what marred  by  the  information  that  none  of  you  were  quite  well. 


266  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

But,  however,  as  your  sickness  was  slight,  and  perhaps  more  low 
spirits  than  sickness,  I  will  not  deprive  myself  of  the  gratification 
of  supposing  that  you  are  all  fully  restored  to  health  and  spirits 
by  this  time.  Please  accept  my  congratulations  on  your  recovery, 
and  the  very  marked  improvement  in  your  appearances.  The 
girls  are  florid,  Sister  Thomas  has  picked  up  considerably,  you 
are  as  active  as  a  boy  and  Sister  Wortham  is  right  fleshy.  Well, 
if  you  are  not  all  just  as  I  have  imagined,  it  is  because  the  all- 
wise  Father  has  seen  that  it  is  better  to  exercise  you  with  trials 
suited  to  make  you  holier,  and  to  promote  your  eternal  interests. 
So,  still  I  congratulate  you.    See  Rom.  5  :  3,  4. 

I  have  been  slightly  sick  since  I  saw  you,  and  sick  on  the  days 
of  the  great  battle  in  the  neighborhood — the  last  time  that  I 
should  have  chosen  for  the  purpose.  But  sickness  does  not  con- 
sult our  taste  or  convenience.  I  am  now  quite  well,  but  consider- 
ably emaciated.  I  am  really  afraid  that  I  am  about  to  fall  back 
to  my  former  skeleton  condition.  It  seems  to  be  a  pity  that  there 
cannot  be  a  more  equal  distribution  of  flesh  among  animals  of  the 
human  species.  Have  you  not  observed  that  this  species  of  mam- 
malia are  subject  to  greater  extremes  in  this  respect,  especially  in 
the  direction  of  obesity,  than  any  other  ?  If,  in  proportion  as 
my  body  is  attenuated,  my  mind  could  be  sublimated — this  word 
is  used  in  its  secondary,  not  its  primary  sense — I  might  well 
endure  the  combined  process.  But,  alas !  whether  the  body 
expands  or  contracts,  the  mind  remains  the  same  feeble,  shrivelled, 
inert  thing. 

I  called  for  a  few  minutes  on  Sister  Dabbs  in  the  old,  familiar, 
hospitable  mansion.  Things  looked  pretty  much  as  usual,  but 
the  well-known  faces  by  which  I  have  been  so  frequently  greeted 
in  that  abode  were  not  there.  And  it  is,  I  think,  good  that  they 
are  not  there.  I  have  no  question  of  your  Avisdom  in  leaving  the 
city.  I  wish  all  the  women,  children,  non-combatants  and  cowards 
(I  don't  include  any  of  you  in  this  last  class),  except  such  as  are 
employed  in  the  hospitals  or  shops,  were  comfortably  situated  in 
secure  places  remote  from  Richmond.  Provisions  here  are  very 
scarce,  and  have  reached  famine  prices :  butter  is  selling  at  $1.25 
per  pound,  bacon  at  from  50  to  75  cents,  eggs  $1.00  per  dozen, 
chickens  $1.00  a  piece,  and  small  and  lean  at  that,  and  other 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHJRCH.        267 

things  in  the  same  proportion.  Some  efforts  are  being  made  to 
increase  the  supplies  for  the  city.  I  hope  they  may  succeed  ;  if 
they  do  not,  we  shall  not,  I  trust,  starve,  but  we  shall  be  pinched. 
Now,  the  fewer  that  are  here,  the  more  they  will  have  in  propor- 
tion for  their  support.  Beside,  the  city  is  in  danger  of  being 
shelled,  and  in  that  event,  it  will  be  necessary  for  all  not  engaged 
in  service,  and  willing  to  bear  the  perils  of  a  bombardment,  to 
leave  the  city,  and  very  difficult  for  them  to  do  it.  I  think  you 
should  feel  more  than  satisfied  that  you  are  away  from  danger, 
and,  in  a  measure,  free  from  the  excitement  prevailing  here. 

I  can  give  you  very  little  information  about  the  war  which  you 
do  not  obtain  through  the  papers.  There  is  much  less  apprehen- 
sion that  McClellan  will  get  here  (except  he  should  come  as  a 
prisoner)  than  there  was  a  few  weeks  ago.  The  battle  at  Dreury's 
Bluff  put  an  end  to  the  danger  that  the  gun-boats  will  reach 
Richmond.  The  battle  of  the  31st  May  and  the  1st  June  has 
damped  the  ardor  of  the  Federal  army  in  its  march  to  this  city. 
Jackson's  victories  in  the  Valley  have  spoiled  the  programme  of 
the  young  Napoleon.  The  city  is  rife  with  rumors  to-day.  I 
hardly  need  to  name  them ;  they  are  all  favorable,  and  if  true, 
you  will  hear  them  in  due  time.  The  probability  of  foreign  in- 
tervention is  certainly  increasing.  There  is  extreme  suffering  in 
the  manufacturing  districts  of  England  ;  multitudes  are  demand- 
ing labor ;  to  get  labor,  they  must  have  cotton  ;  to  get  cotton,  there 
must  be  peace ;  and  to  secure  peace,  there  must  be  intervention. 
I  am  expecting  it.  Meanwhile,  success  attends  our  arms.  The 
country  is  invaded,  oppressed,  suffering,  but  not  subjugated.  Let 
us  take  courage.  The  Lord  reigns ;  He  can  still  the  tumult  of  the 
people,  calm  the  angry  passions  of  men,  and  turn  the  darkness  of 
night  into  the  brightness  of  the  morning. 

This  is  Sunday ;  the  afternoon  has  been  rainy,  and  the  leisure 
secured  by  the  rain  has  given  birth  to  this  letter.  I  am  lonely 
here.  My  friends  are  almost  all  gone ;  the  Goddin's  are  staying 
in  the  country  near  the  city.  Walker  and  myself  are  keeping 
Widower's  Hall.     Your  friends  here  are  well. 

My  best  regards  to  your  family  and  Sister  Thomas.     Shall  be 

pleased  to  hear  from  you  again.     Yours  truly, 

J.  B.  Jeter. 


268  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Richmond,  Sept.  10,  1862. 
Mrs.  Dr.  Worth  am  : 

Dear  Sister.  — I  promised  the  Doctor  to  write  to  you,  and  though 
the  promise  was  expected  to  be  fulfilled  during  his  stay  in  Rich- 
mond, its  fulfillment  will  not,  I  presume,  be  less  acceptable  now. 
It  is  hardly  worth  my  while  to  write  you  the  news,  as  you,  no 
doubt,  see  the  daily  papers.  The  city  yesterday  was  full  of  most 
exciting  and  agreeable  rumors.  I  need  not  state  them — if  true, 
you  will  hear  them  ;  if  false,  you  would  better  not  hear  them. 
The  news  of  the  last  few  weeks,  confirmed  beyond  dispute,  is  suf- 
ficient to  fill  our  hearts  with  joy  and  gratitude,  and  inspire  us 
with  confidence  in  the  ultimate  success  of  our  Confederate  cause. 
The  triumph  of  our  arms  has  been  wonderful,  almost  miraculous. 
The  best  informed  and  most  reliable  witnesses  testify  that  on  the 
late  battle-fields  of  Manassas  the  loss  of  the  Federals  exceeded  by 
ten  times  that  of  the  Confederates.  The  passage  of  our  army  in- 
to Maryland  and  approach  of  the  army  of  Smith  to  Cincinnati, 
are  exciting  intense  interest  in  the  South,  and  great  consterna- 
tion in  the  North.  The  next  thirty  days  are  probably  pregnant 
with  events  deeply  affecting  the  destiny  of  this  continent. 

Dr.  W.  F.  Broaddus  was  here  last  week  from  Washington  on 
parole.  His  object  was  to  secure  a  release  for  many  prisoners, 
himself  among  the  rest,  held  as  hostages  for  certain  Union  men 
held  as  prisoners  by  the  Confederate  government.  He  succeeded 
in  his  purpose,  and  left  for  Washington  last  Sunday.  He  is  well, 
in  fine  spirits,  and  will  lay  in  a  fund  of  anecdotes  that  will  fur- 
nish him  illustrations,  in  and  out  of  the  pulpit,  for  the  bal- 
ance of  his  life.  He  is  hopeful  that  a  political  crisis  is  approach- 
ing at  the  North. 

I  called  at  the  corner  of  Marshall  and  Second  Streets  a  few 
evenings  since.  I  called  partly  from  old  associations,  and  partly 
from  new,  and  had  a  pleasant  visit.  Things  were  looking  as 
usual,  except  that  the  familiar  old  faces — I  do  not  mean  exactly 
old  faces,  for  some  of  them  are  quite  young,  but  simply  those  to 
which  I  had  become  well  accustomed — were  absent.  Well,  I 
have  something  bad  to  tell.  Let  Miss  Callie  prepare  for  tears. 
It  was  stated  that  cat  and  kitten  had  been  absent  for  a  fortnight, 
and  serious  doubts  were  entertained  whether  their  departure  was 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        269 

not  final.  Alas  !  how  uncertain  are  all  our  terrestrial  delights  ! 
By  the  way,  there  is  a  supposed  connection  between  cats  and  old 
maids ;  but  what  it  is,  for  the  life  of  me,  I  cannot  recollect. 
Whether  the  relation  is  one  of  attraction  or  repulsion,  and 
whether  it  is  indicative  of  good  or  evil,  I  cannot  say.  I  have  the 
impression  that  it  is  portentous.  It  may,  therefore,  be  more  a 
matter  of  congratulation  than  grief  that  cat  and  kitten  have  va- 
mosed. Now,  don't  understand  me  as  insinuating  that  Miss  C.  is 
an  old  maid,  or  approaching  the  venerable  condition  indicated 
by  that  phrase, — far  from  it.  I  insist  that  a  maid  should  not  be 
called  "  old  "  at  a  period  of  life  when  that  appalling  attribute 
would  not  be  applied  to  any  other  human  being.  She  is  not  old 
at  sixty,  but  merely  approaching  the  period  of  life  at  which  that 
honored  but  dreaded  state  begins.  In  writing  of  cats  and  Miss 
C,  old  maids  just  happened  to  come  into  my  mind,  and  as  I 
thought  I  wrote,  and  I  have  had  a  deal  of  trouble  to  set  myself 
right  in  the  premises. 

My  age  and  gravity  demand  that  I  should  write  with  more 
seriousness ;  but  please  bear  in  mind  that  letters  carry  the  im- 
press of  those  to  whom,  rather  than  by  whom,  they  are  written ; 
for  the  obvious  reason  that  as  they  are  intended  to  please,  they 
are  adapted,  as  best  the  writer  can  adapt  them,  to  the  tastes  of 
those  who  are  to  receive  them.  And  yet,  really,  I  would  not 
have  you  to  form  an  opinion  of  the  estimation  in  which  I  hold 
your  taste  by  this  letter.  Wishing  to  fulfill  a  promise,  and  with- 
out anything  special  to  communicate,  I  have  written  just  such  a 
letter  as  might  have  been  expected. 

In  the  middle  of  the  last  sentence  I  was  called  to  see  a  messen- 
ger from  one  of  Brother  Tyree's  churches  in  Powhatan,  urging 
me  to  go  up  and  aid  in  a  protracted  meeting.  I  came  down  last 
week  from  Peterville,  where  we  had  a  prosperous  meeting — ten 
or  twelve  converts,  several  inquirers — and  the  meeting  last  Sun- 
day was  transferred  to  Fine  Creek  Church,  and  the  meeting  is 
said  to  be  encouraging.  I  must  decide  by  five  o'clock  whether  I 
will  take  the  boat.     Shall  probably  go. 

You  are  kept  advised,  I  presume,  of  all  local  news  by  your 
sprightly  correspondent  at  the  corner.  Dover  Association  meets 
on  Church  Hill  next  week.      Week  after  the  Rappahannock 


270  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Association  meets  at  Upper  King  and  Queen,  which  I  purpose  to 
attend.  Hope  you  are  growing  fleshy.  My  kindest  regards  to 
your  mother,  whose  many  favors  have  left  an  ineffaceable  im- 
pression on  my  heart.  My  compliments  to  the  girls,  loved  for 
their  parents'  sake.  Callie  will  see  that  she  is  not  forgotten.  My 
regards  to  your  old  man.  Affectionately, 

J.  B.  J. 

P.  S. — Bettie,  to  me  the  dearest  of  children,  was  well  when  I 
heard  from  her.  J. 

In  the  letter  which  follows,  he  confesses  that  he 
has  fallen  a  victim  to  the  witchery  of  the  fair  occu- 
pant of  the  Thomas  mansion.  It  is  written  in  a 
strain  so  sportive  and  facetious,  that  every  reader 
will  peruse  it  with  unwonted  zest  and  pleasure. 

Richmond,  April  15,  1863. 
Dear  Sister  Thomas: 

I  have  been  for  some  time  intending  to  write  to  you,  and  I 
embrace  the  opportunity  afforded  by  this  inclement  morning  to 
put  in  execution  my  purpose.  I  congratulate  you  on  your  settle- 
ment in  the  quiet  and,  I  trust,  plentiful  village  at  Pittsylvania 
Court-House.  I  should  think  it  would  add  very  much  to  your 
comfort  if  the  Doctor  would  open  a  tavern.  It  would  remind 
you  pleasantly  of  the  hospitality  so  long  and  generously  dispensed 
to  your  friends,  at  the  well-known  stand  at  the  corner  of  Marshall 
and  Second  Streets.  Thousands  shared  in  that  ever-flowing  hos- 
pitality, and  none  more  gratefully  than  your  humble  servant. 
Your  removal  has,  no  doubt,  proved  a  serious  loss  to  a  wide  circle 
of  obliged  friends ;  and  your  own  heart,  so  thoroughly  practiced 
in  the  rites  of  hospitality,  must  have  been  under  painful  restraints 
in  a  boarding-house.  The  disastrous  times  on  which  we  are  fallen 
not  justifying,  or  even  admitting,  the  munificent  hospitality  of 
your  spacious  city  home,  in  past  years,  it  would  seem  that  the 
nearest  approach  that  can  now  be  made  to  it  is  for  the  Doctor  to 
open  a  hotel,  and  permit  you  to  preside,  as  you  know  so  well  how 
to  do,  at  its  board.     You  might  fancy  yourself  at  your  city  home 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        271 

dispensing  your  bounteous  hospitality  to  your  delighted  and 
obliged  guests.  You  would  bring  patronage  to  the  inn,  but  cer- 
tainly no  profit  to  its  proprietor,  unless  the  style  of  your  living 
should  be  greatly  contracted  from  its  former  sumptuousness.  I 
can  assure  you,  I  would  go  quite  out  of  my  way  to  spend  a  night 
at  such  a  hotel  as  you  would  preside  over. 

The  mention  of  the  mansion  at  the  corner  of  Second  and  Mar- 
shall Streets  has  awakened  thoughts  not  entirely  free  from  emo- 
tion. Your  removal  from  the  city,  with  your  highly-esteemed 
family,  at  a  time  when  so  many  of  my  friends  were  being  scattered 
as  chaff  before  the  wind,  was  to  me,  as  it  was  to  many,  a  sad  event. 
But  how  little  I  was  aware  of  the  consequences  that  were  to  flow 
from  it.  Guilelessly  I  visited  the  spot,  so  familiar  to  me,  and 
where  I  had  enjoyed  so  many  pleasures  in  years  departed.  It  so 
happened,  or  rather,  it  was  so  ordered,  that  you  had  employed  a 
witch  to  reside  in  your  house,  and  take  care  of  your  furniture. 
Thus  was  I  brought  within  the  influence  of  her  charm.  I  listened 
to  the  voice  of  the  Syren,  and  was  captivated.  From  the  love  of 
the  place,  or  its  occupant,  or  from  both  these  influences,  my  visit 
was  repeated.  The  oftener  I  frequented  the  place,  the  more  I  de- 
lighted to  be  there.  The  remainder  of  the  story  may  be  easily 
conjectured.  I  was  soon  brought  under  the  spell  of  the  witch. 
I  was  charmed,  won,  captured,  spell-bound,  and,  at  length,  not 
reluctantly,  yielded  myself  to  the  mystic  influence.  I  have  loved 
to  visit  that  corner  for  years  ;  but  if  I  take  even  a  greater  pleas- 
ure in  visiting  it  now  than  friendship  could  inspire,  in  former 
times,  though  that  was  of  no  ordinary  measure,  you  must  ascribe 
it  to  the  witch — nay,  to  yourself,  who  placed  the  witch  directly  in 
my  path,  and,  by  so  doing,  rendered  inevitable  the  consequences 
which  have  followed.  As  you  are,  in  some  sense,  responsible  for 
these  results,  I  must  beg  of  you  a  favor,  by  which,  as  the  case  may 
be,  their  mischiefs  may  be  diminished,  or  their  advantages  aug- 
mented ;  and  I  charge  you,  by  all  the  claims  of  friendship,  and  on 
pain  of  incurring  my  displeasure  (which,  by  the  way,  is  no  very 
serious  matter),  that  you  promptly  grant  it.  It  is,  that  the  witch,  or 
widow  (which  is  the  same  thing  in  my  vocabulary),  may  be  per- 
mitted to  receive  me  as  a  boarder  in  your  princely  mansion,  until 
such  time  as  it  may  suit  your  convenience — at  no  distant  day,  J 


272  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

hope — to  re-occupy  it.  She  approves  of  the  application.  I  can- 
not be  happy  elsewhere,  while  she  is  there.  I  promise  to  take  the 
best  possible  care  of  her,  and  I  am  persuaded  that  she  will  be  no 
less  careful  of  your  interests  than  she  has  heretofore  been.  Your 
early  compliance  with  this  request  by  letter  will  add  to  the  many 
obligations  which  your  kindness  has  already  imposed  on  me,  and 
which  it  will  ever  be  my  pleasure  to  acknowledge. 

Having  finished  the  introduction  to  my  letter,  and  disposed  of 
the  trivial  matters,  I  now  come  to  grave  matters — war,  battles, 
and,  lastly,  the  price  of  turnip  salad.  But  really,  I  presume,  you 
have  heard  so  much  on  these  subjects  that  it  would  be  quite 
refreshing  to  you  to  receive  a  letter  having  no  reference  to  them. 
I  am  sorry  I  mentioned  them.  I  have  nothing  new  to  say  about 
them — nothing  but  what  you  can  learn  from  the  papers.  The 
war  rages,  battles  are  impending,  and  market  prices  are  enor- 
mous. Peace  is  in  the  future — how  far,  none  can  tell.  Mean- 
while there  is  no  ground  for  discouragement  in  the  Confederacy. 
Our  armies  are  brave,  our  generals  are  skillful,  the  enemy  is  de- 
feated or  faltering  at  every  point,  and  good  crops  in  the  approach- 
ing season  (which  the  Lord  in  mercy  grant)  will  free  us  from  the 
danger  of  want.  I  look  hopefully  to  the  end.  A  Christian  should 
be  discouraged  by  nothing.  Even  starvation  would  but  accelerate 
his  progress  to  heaven.  But  how  much  more  easy  is  it  to  preach 
in  this  strain  than  it  is  to  live  in  harmony  with  the  doctrine  !  If 
we  only  had  full  confidence  in  God,  in  His  wisdom,  power  and 
goodness,  we  should  not  be  greatly  troubled  if  the  world  were  on 
fire,  and  the  elements  were  melting  with  fervent  heat,  or  if,  what 
might  be  still  harder  to  bear,  Lincoln  should  succeed  in  subju- 
gating the  South,  and  reducing  it  to  the  rule  of  the  Abolitionists. 

I  have  not  seen  Mrs.  Ryland  and  Bertie  for  several  days, 
though  they  are  doubtless  well  and  happy.  I  have  visited  the 
Corner  occasionally  since  they  came  to  the  city,  and  have  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  them.  I  congratulate  you  on  Carrie's  mar- 
riage, especially  as  it  meets,  as  I  suppose  it  must,  your  entire  ap- 
probation. I  am  so  earnest  an  advocate  for  matrimony  that  I 
think  a  bad  match  is  better  than  celibacy,  provided  it  is  not  too 
bad.  For  my  own  part,  I  would  positively  rather  marry  a  witch 
than  not  to  be  married  at  all.    At  the  same  time,  I  can  truly  say 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        273 

that  I  look  upon  it  as  the  sorest  calamity  of  iny  life  that  I  have 
been  under  the  necessity  of  marrying  so  frequently. 

Present  my  very  best  regards  to  the  Doctor  and  his  lady,  and 
the  gay  birds  of  their  nest,  now  putting  forth  their  brightest 
plumage.  And  now  permit  me  to  subscribe  myself,  if  not  among 
your  oldest,  at  least,  among  your  most  sincere,  and  your  most 
obliged  friends,  J.  B.  Jeter. 

Richmond,  July  13,  1863. 
Dear  Doctor  "VVortham  : 

I  received  not  long  since  your  congratulatory  letter,  for  which 
accept  my  thanks.  I  cannot  be  sufficiently  grateful  to  the  Giver 
of  all  my  mercies  that  he  has  bestowed  on  me  a  companion  so 
eminently  fitted  to  promote  my  enjoyment  and  usefulness. 

For  the  last  few  weeks  there  has  been  greater  excitement  in  the 
city  than  I  have  ever  before  seen.  The  advance  of  Lee's  army 
into  Pennsylvania,  the  fate  of  Vicksburg,  the  hourly  expecta- 
tion, for  several  days,  of  an  attack  on  Richmond,  with  a  thousand 
rumors,  stirred  the  public  anxiety  to  the  utmost  intensity.  The 
highest  exhilaration  produced  by  exaggerated  reports  of  Lee's 
success  in  Pennsylvania  was  succeeded  by  a  dense  gloom  at  the 
fall  of  Vicksburg,  and  the  quasi  defeat  of  Lee.  The  public 
mind  is  a  little  quieted  now ;  but  the  situation  of  Lee's  army  in 
Maryland,  the  reported  presence  of  the  enemy's  ironclads  in  the 
James  River,  the  critical  condition  of  our  cause  in  the  South- 
west, and  the  struggle  at  Charleston,  cause  no  little  uneasiness. 
When  will  these  national  troubles  have  an  end  ?  Nothing  short 
of  the  Spirit  of  inspiration  can  answer  this  question.  All  human 
calculation  on  this  subject  is  utterly  baffled.  The  South  is  fully, 
solemnly,  firmly  resolved  to  secure  its  independence — the  North, 
with  all  its  evil  passions  stirred  and  intensified,  seems  to  be 
equally  resolved  that  the  South  shall  not  have  its  independence ; 
and,  if  God  interpose  not  to  arrest  the  conflict,  I  see  no  end  of  it 
short  of  the  utter  exhaustion  of  one  or  both  of  the  parties.  "  The 
Lord  reigns ;  let  the  earth  rejoice." 

Sister  Thomas,  I  presume,  wishes  to  hear  something  from  the 
"  Corner."     Things  are  pretty  much  as  they  were.     The  garden 
is  becoming  more  luxuriant  and  tangled.     It  needs  pruning  ;  but 
18 


274  EIFE  0F  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

only  the  hand  that  planted  can  trim  to  suit  the  taste  of  the 
planter.  The  trees,  shrubs  and  plants  are,  therefore,  allowed 
to  flourish  in  the  wildest  luxuriance,  lest  an  unskillful  hand 
should  mar  them  in  the  eyes  that  view  them  with  the  deepest  in- 
terest. Some  time  since  Mr.  John  B.  Crenshaw,  who  owns  the 
house  at  the  corner  of  the  garden  on  Marshall  Street,  applied  to 
Mrs.  Jeter  for  permission  to  cut  down  a  mulberry  tree,  which,  he 
said,  was  injuring  his  lot.  Of  course  she  declined  granting  it ; 
and  directed  him  to  seek  permission  from  the  owner  of  the  prop- 
erty. A  few  days  since  the  tree  was  cut  down,  without  our 
knowledge,  and  whether  with  or  without  proper  authority,  I 
know  not.  The  enclosure  was  removed  to  fell  the  tree,  and  it  has 
been  replaced  in  a  bungling  manner.  I  addressed  a  note  to  Mr. 
Crenshaw  calling  his  attention  to  the  condition  of  the  fence ;  but 
as  yet  it  remains  as  it  was.  His  tenant  states  that  the  enclosure 
was  temporarily  set  up,  and  will  be  properly  repaired.  From 
the  cow  and  calf  nothing  has  been  heard.  A  man  signing  him- 
self "  John  James,"  on  the  plank-road  in  Sydney,  advertised  an 
astray  cow  at  his  house,  resembling  Sister  T.'s  ;  but  by  the  most 
diligent  search  I  was  unable  to  hear  of  any  such  man. 

Mrs.  Jeter,  who  joins  in  sincere  regards  to  all  the  family,  wishes 
me  to  assure  Mrs.  Ryland  of  her  thanks  for  the  handsome  goblets 
received  from  her  generous  hands.         Affectionately, 

J.  B.  Jeter. 

The  foregoing  letter  has  already  apprised  the 
reader  of  the  near  approach  of  an  event  which  may 
be  well  accounted  as  the  most  auspicious  and  fortun- 
ate in  all  of  his  varied  and  happy  life. 

On  the  5th  of  May,  1863,  he  and  Mrs.  Mary  C. 
Dabbs  were  married.  The  ceremony  took  place  at 
the  Thomas  mansion,  and  was  performed  by  Dr.  J. 
L.  Burrows.  It  was  his  intention  to  start  imme- 
diately on  a  bridal  tour,  not  to  the  North,  in  those 
days,  but  to  the  South.  It  happened,  however,  that 
the  train,  as  was  then   often  the  case,  proved  false 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        275 

to  its  schedule  and  refused  to  go.  The  disappoint- 
ment fell  lightly  upon  him,  for  he  returned  to  the 
"  Corner  "  with  his  bride,  and  gathering  a  little  group 
of  congenial  friends,  he  gave  the  evening  to  inno- 
cent merriment.  Mr.  Josiah  Kyland,  who  was  one 
of  the  company,  testifies  that  he  was  brimming  with 
sparkling  reminiscences  and  laugh-provoking  jests. 

From  the  time  of  his  marriage  he  "  boarded,"  to 
adopt  his  word,  in  the  Thomas  mansion,  to  the  close 
of  the  war.  I  can  not  deny  him  the  privilege  of 
bearing  his  grateful  testimony  to  the  worth  of  the 
lady  with  whom,  in  the  good  Providence  of  God,  he 
had  linked  his  fortunes.  As  this  lady  still  survives, 
I  hesitate  to  speak  of  her  in  such  terms  of  praise  as 
she  deserves.  It  is  not  enough  to  say,  that  their 
marriage  was  to  him,  the  source  of  unmeasured  and 
ever-deepening  happiness.  His  last  days  were  his 
best.  It  was  universally  conceded  that  his  contact 
with  this  brilliant  and  inspiring  woman  quickened 
him  into  new  activity,  and  stimulated  him  to  the 
noblest  achievements  of  his  life.  It  was  a  happy 
fortune,  indeed,  which  gave  him  such  a  companion 
in  his  old  age.  In  the  following  letter  the  reader 
will  find  his  tribute  to  her : 

Richmond,  Aug.  31,  1863. 
Dr.  A.  G.  Wortham  : 

Dear  Brother — I  write  to  give  a  brief  account  of  my  steward- 
ship. The  premises  are  safe  and  in  good  condition.  Miss  E., 
some  time  since,  trimmed  up  the  garden  walks,  and  it  has  a  more 
civilized  appearance  than  formerly  it  had.  It  has  some  fruit, 
but  it  rots  and  falls  badly,  very  little  of  it  promising  to  reach 
perfection.  In  the  house  and  furniture  no  visible  change  has 
occurred.     Our  white  family  will  take  their  departure  to-day — 


276         LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Miss  Emily  for  Petersburg,  and  the  rest  of  us  for  Bedford — to 
remain  a  few  weeks.  We  shall  carefully  lock  up  most  of  the 
rooms,  and  have  procured  a  very  steady,  upright  and  careful 
young  man — Sam.  McClintock,  nephew  of  my  late  wife — to  come 
early  in  the  evening  and  spend  the  nights  in  the  chamber  which 
we  occupy.     All  will  be  quite  as  safe  as  if  we  were  present. 

We  had  quite  a  flurry  last  Friday  morning.  The  bells 
sounded  a  military  alarm,  and  the  Yankees  in  strong  force,  it 
was  reported,  were  this  side  of  Bottom's  Bridge.  How  much 
truth  there  was  in  the  story  I  have  not  yet  learned.  The  panic 
has  just  passed  away,  and  nothing  remains  of  it,  except  the 
remembrance  the  militia  have  of  a  short  and  wearisome  campaign. 

Lieut.  Ryland,  I  learned  yesterday  afternoon,  is  much  better, 
and  will  soon,  no  relapse  occurring,  be  on  his  feet  again.  Sister 
J.  C.  Crane  was  buried  last  Friday.  Her  mind  became  a  miser- 
able, hopeless  wreck,  and  her  death  was  a  timely  relief. 

When  will  Sister  Thomas  come  home  ?  We  will  do  all  that  in 
us  lies  to  make  her  stay  agreeable,  though  as  it  regards  table  fare, 
we  can  promise  nothing  very  inviting.  Still,  I  think  that  between 
seeing  company,  inspecting  and  improving  her  garden  and  taking 
her  rest,  she  might  pass  some  weeks  here  pleasantly  ;  and  she 
would,  at  least,  be  better  prepared  to  enjoy  the  delights  of  her 
new  village  home  on  her  return. 

Your  friends  here,  so  far  as  I  know,  are  all  well.  Mrs.  Jeter 
joins  me  in  best  regards  to  yourself  and  all  the  family.  For 
myself,  I  shall,  I  trust,  never  cease  to  be  thankful  that  you  all 
removed  from  Richmond.  That  removal  was  fraught  with  good 
to  me,  and  has  changed  the  whole  current  of  my  life.  Howbeit, 
I  shall  rejoice  when  the  time  comes  for  you  all,  except  such  of 
the  girls  as  may  have  the  fortune  to  marry  good  husbands  in 
Pittsylvania,  to  return  in  quiet  safety  and  gladness  to  your  loved 
and  delightful  home.     Yours  with  sincere  affection, 

J.  B.  Jeter. 

Of  his  editorial  career  I  will  speak  in  a  later  chap- 
ter ;  but  it  is  necessary  to  mention  now,  that  soon 
after  the  war  he  became  associated  witli  the  Reli- 
gious Herald,  as  one  of  its  proprietors  and  editors. 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        277 

For  several  years  he  combined  his  editorial  and 
pastoral  labors.  He  speedily  found  that  at  his  ad- 
vanced age,  his  duties  were  too  onerous,  and  in  1866 
he  secured  Rev.  Harvey  Hatcher  as  his  assistant  in 
the  pastorate.  This  relation  was  mutually  agreeable, 
and  was  crowned  with  extraordinary  success.  Dur- 
ing their  joint  labors,  the  church  enjoyed  a  very  pre- 
cious revival,  and  had  large  accessions.  Mr.  Hatcher 
withdrew  in  March,  1867,  to  accept  service  in  an- 
other State. 

During  this  time  Dr.  M.  L.  James,  now  a  distin- 
guished medical  professor  and  practitioner,  became 
temporarily  an  inmate  of  Dr.  Jeter's  family.  In 
observing  his  habits,  Dr.  James  became  convinced 
that  he  was  overtaxing  his  strength.  He  found  that 
he  arose  early,  and  worked  continuously  through  the 
day,  and  late  into  the  night,  without  allowing  him- 
self time  for  rest  or  recreation.  He  warned  him  of 
his  danger,  and  sought  to  alarm  him  by  a  well- 
grounded  intimation  that  if  he  did  not  relax,  he 
would  inevitably  break  down.  The  Doctor  was  in- 
credulous, and  insisted  that  there  was  no  danger.  But 
he  was  mistaken,  and  Dr.  James  was  right. 

In  the  spring  of  1867  he  suffered  from  frequent 
attacks  of  vertigo,  and  his  symptoms  became  so  alarm- 
ing, that  he  was  peremptorily  ordered  by  his  physician 
to  seek  relief  in  rest.  He  realized  the  necessity  of  ac- 
cepting advice,  so  manifestly  wise  and  proper.  His 
symptoms  had  become  serious :  his  brain  grew  slug- 
gish ;  he  failed  utterly  in  one  or  two  attempts  to 
preach  :  his  pen  lost  its  vigor,  and  he  felt  apprehensive 
of  paralysis. 


278  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Accompanied  by  his  wife,  he  went  to  Canada, 
where  he  remained  several  months,  and  upon  his 
return,  he  was  not  only  relieved  of  his  vertiginous 
troubles,  but  he  seemed  to  be  thoroughly  rejuvenated. 
Soon  after  coming  back  to  Richmond,  he  met  his 
physician,  and  informed  him  that  he  suffered  some 
inconvenience  in  walking.  Upon  being  asked  to 
state  the  nature  of  his  difficulties,  he  said  that  he 
found  it  hard  to  "  keep  his  feet  on  the  ground."  He 
was  so  exuberant  and  elastic  he  felt  as  if  he  could 
fly.  He  was  then  sixty-five  years  old.  During 
his  absence  his  pulpit  was  ably  supplied  by  Dr.  T.  G. 
Jones,  then  president  of  Richmond  College. 

On  March  25th,  1870,  Dr.  Jeter  tendered  his 
resignation  as  pastor  of  the  Grace  Street  Church. 
To  this  step  he  was  impelled,  as  he  stated  in  his 
letter,  by  a  regard  for  his  health,  a  belief  that  he 
could  be  more  useful  as  an  editor,  and  a  conviction 
that  the  church  would  be  more  prosperous  under  the 
care  of  a  younger  pastor.  He  said  also  that  he  re- 
joiced that  he  would  leave  the  church  united  and 
hopeful,  and  that  if  there  was  one  member  who  did 
not  reciprocate  the  sincere  affection  which  he  cher- 
ished for  every  person  in  the  church,  he  did  not 
know  it.  He  added  that  the  sadness  of  his  retire- 
ment from  a  position  which  he  had  held  for  more 
than  seventeen  years  was  softened  by  the  fact  that 
he  would  remain  a  member  of  the  church. 

His  resignation,  so  gracefully  offered,  was  tenderly 
and  regretfully  accepted.  His  retirement  was  a 
mournful  event  to  his  people,  but  they  saw  that  it 
would  lighten  his  burdens  and  be  for  the  Master's 


SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AT  GRACE  STREET  CHURCH.        279 

honor.  The  church  signalized  the  occasion  by  such 
action  as  fitly  voiced  its  sorrow  and  affection.  The 
resolutions  passed  were  appropriate  and  beautiful, 
but  they  must  be  omitted.  Indeed,  it  would  be  easy 
to  fill  chapters  with  eulogistic  resolutions  and  ad- 
dresses which  were  put  forth  in  honor  of  Dr.  Jeter, 
during  his  life  and  after  his  death,  but  let  me  say 
that  such  papers  must  meet  the  seemingly  cruel  fate 
which  now  befalls  the  resolutions  passed  by  his  last 
pastoral  charge.  They  must  be  left  out.  Not  that 
I  would  disparage  the  approval  of  good  men ;  but 
there  is  a  dullness  in  formulated  praise.  For  obscure 
and  unestablished  men  it  may  serve  a  practical  pur- 
pose, and  for  the  weak  and  vain,  in  every  voice  of 
praise,  there  is  music.  In  his  early  days  Dr.  Jeter 
was  very  ambitious ;  he  loved  notoriety  and  was 
thrilled  by  the  plaudits  of  men.  But  as  he  advanced 
in  years  he  grew  in  humility.  He  saw  the  end  of 
human  glory,  and  his  soul,  disenchanted  of  earth, 
turned  to  the  invisible  and  eternal.  The  fires  of 
ambition,  which  at  first  glowed  within  him,  gradually 
paled  and  expired.  Little  cared  he  for  the  praise  or 
censure  of  men,  and  in  my  humble  effort  to  trace  his 
life  I  feel  strongly,  that  I  would  belittle  him  by  en- 
cumbering these  pages  with  formal  and  elaborate 
eulogies.  The  story  of  his  service  must  be  the  only 
song  of  his  praise. 

At  the  time  he  left  Grace  Street,  he  had  already 
been  for  a  half-century  a  herald  of  salvation,  and 
during  most  of  the  time  he  had  borne  the  burdens 
of  the  pastoral  office.  It  was,  with  meekness  and 
solemnity,  that  he  took  off  his  robes  and  laid  them 


280  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

aside.  Long-worn  they  were,  but  spotless,  and  he 
went  out,  with  the  grateful  benedictions  of  his  people 
thick  upon  his  head.  His  retirement  occurred  just 
as  he  was  approaching  the  dead-line  of  life,  but  he 
sought  his  release  not  to  rest  nor  to  die.  In  his  step 
there  was  no  tremor,  and  his  hand  had  not  lost  its 
cunning.  He  ceased  to  be  a  pastor  only  that  he 
might  be  a  teacher  in  a  larger  sphere. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

IN  THE  PULPIT. 

DANIEL  WITT  said  of  himself,  that  he  was 
"nothing  but  a  preacher."  In  saying  this, 
he  did  not  claim  for  himself  any  pre-eminent 
ability  as  a  minister,  but  simply  intended  to  indicate 
that  he  lacked,  in  a  marked  degree,  adaptation  to 
other  forms  of  Christian  work.  Those  who  knew 
the  delicate  grace  of  his  pen  and  the  rare  charm  of 
his  social  character,  could  never  endorse  this  modest 
estimate  of  himself.  And  yet  it  is  probably  true 
that  the  ardor  with  which  he  gave  himself  to  the 
specific  work  of  preaching  may  have  lessened,  in 
some  degree,  his  effectiveness  in  other  branches  of 
ministerial  activity.  Happy  in  the  pulpit,  he  was 
content  to  be  forgotten  elsewhere. 

Not  so  with  Dr.  Jeter.  It  was  not  possible  for 
him  to  condense  his  strength  into  any  single  form 
of  activity.  Endowed  with  immense  physical  vigor, 
versatile  in  his  gifts,  quenchless  in  his  thirst  for 
knowledge,  aggressive  in  his  nature,  keenly  inter- 
ested in  living  questions  and  capable  of  vast  endu- 
rance, he  instinctively  thrust  himself  into  every 
movement  which  gave  promise  of  usefulness.  His 
eagle  eye  swept  the  entire  line  of  the  Christian  host, 
and  he  always  rushed  to  the  point  where  he  seemed 

281 


282  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

to  be  most  needed.  It  mattered  little  with  him 
whether  it  was  a  convention,  a  revival,  a  board 
meeting,  a  religious  controversy,  a  book  to  be  writ- 
ten, a  journey  to  be  made,  a  college  to  be  estab- 
lished, a  minister  to  be  ordained,  a  church  to  be 
built,  a  dying  man  to  be  visited ;  he  was  ready  for 
that  which  most  urgently  called  for  his  help.  That 
the  diversity  of  his  labors  impaired  his  power  in  the 
pulpit  is  a  matter  of  opinion. 

Possibly  if  he  had  thrown  all  his  resources  upon 
the  single  point  of  preparing  and  delivering  his  ser- 
mons, he  might  have  attained  higher  distinction  as 
a  preacher.  This,  however,  is  by  no  means  certain, 
and  I  think  that  it  is  beyond  doubt,  that  the  sum  of 
his  usefulness  was  far  greater,  as  the  outcome  of  his 
varied  labors,  than  it  would  have  been  if  he  had  set 
before  himself  the  purpose  of  being  "  nothing  but  a 
preacher." 

In  undertaking  to  portray  him  as  a  preacher,  I 
shall  speak  candidly.  I  have  no  wish  to  invest  him 
with  a  glory  that  is  unreal.  I  may  not  be  able  to 
paint  him  as  he  was ;  but  I  will  at  least  sketch  him 
as  he  impressed  himself  upon  me. 

It  is  due  to  him  to  say  in  the  outset  that  he  never 
had  a  fair  chance.  He  began  his  career  under  heavy 
disadvantages,  from  which  he  was  never  able  fully 
to  extricate  himself.  It  is  not  easy  to  put  into 
words  those  subtle  influences  which  play  upon  one 
who  grows  up  in  an  atmosphere  of  culture  and  of 
Christian  refinement.  If  he  be  responsive  to  the 
touch  of  these  sacred  things,  he  will  take  on  a  finish 
which  otherwise  he  can  never  hope  to  possess.     We 


IN  THE  PULPIT.  283 

have  already  seen,  under  what  adverse  and  cruel  for- 
tunes, Dr.  Jeter  made  his  way  into  public  life.  It 
was  by  no  means  the  saddest  hardship  of  his  youth 
that  he  was  compelled  to  enter  the  ministry  without 
theological  training.  I  account  it  as  among  his  su- 
preme misfortunes  that,  up  to  the  point  of  his  major- 
ity, he  never  saw  a  preacher  whose  pulpit  manners 
or  homiletical  methods  were  really  worthy  of  his 
imitation.  In  a  large  measure,  young  men  learn  to 
speak  like  those  whom  they  are  accustomed  to  hear, 
and  when  they  have  once  contracted  platform  habits, 
it  is  hard  indeed  to  break  them,  especially  if  they 
are  not  good. 

In  studying  the  character  of  Dr.  Jeter,  therefore, 
as  a  preacher,  we  ought  to  put  into  the  account  the 
fact,  that  he  had  very  little  general  education,  knew 
next  to  nothing  of  systematic  theology,  had  never 
heard  of  such  a  thing  as  homiletics,  had  never  taken 
a  lesson  in  elocution,  and  had  been  listening  to 
preachers  who  misused  their  voices  and  were  care- 
less in  their  speech  and  action.  From  that  low  estate 
he  started,  and  what  he  afterwards  attained  was  so 
much  clear  gain.  What  he  would  have  become,  if 
he  had  been  more  favored  in  his  early  environments 
is  not  a  question  for  the  historian.  Not  a  few  short- 
sighted people  would  be  quick  to  say,  that  he  would 
never  have  attained  to  such  eminence,  if  he  had  gone 
through  the  schools.  I  have  only  to  express  sur- 
prise that  any  could  hold  an  opinion,  so  unreasonable 
and  foolish. 

Dr.  Jeter's  most  serious  drawback  as  a  preacher 
was    his  voice.     It  was  an  ever-present  infirmity, 


284  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

chiefly  conspicuous,  at  the  point  where  it  most  needed 
to  be  concealed.  I  have  never  been  able  to  sympa- 
thize in  the  least  with  that  class  of  his  admirers  who 
not  only  undertook  to  defend  his  voice,  but  to  exalt 
it  into  one  of  his  highest  attractions.  I  must  say  in 
plainness  that  I  always  looked  upon  it  as  the  most 
grievous  blemish  in  his  ministerial  manners.  For 
the  benefit  of  those  who  never  heard  him,  it  may  be 
necessary  to  explain  that  he  always  spoke  at  an  ele- 
vated pitch,  which  gave  to  his  voice  a  shrill  and 
almost  whining  intonation. 

I  believe  that  it  was  generally  supposed  that  this 
was  a  natural  peculiarity.  From  this  view  I  strongly 
dissent.  In  my  judgment  it  was  a  habit  and  not  a 
natural  defect.  He  evidently  learned  in  his  child- 
hood to  talk  in  that  raised  and  whining  tone.  It 
could  have  been  easily  corrected,  if  he  had  been  taken 
in  hand  in  time. 

It  is  understood  that  the  proper  range  for  the 
human  voice,  either  in  public  or  private  speech,  is 
what  the  vocalists  call  the  natural  octave.  That 
octave  contains  eight  different  tones,  and  affords 
ample  scope  for  bringing  out  the  voice  in  its  richest 
and  loftiest  power.  The  lowest  note  of  the  octave, 
which  is  C  of  the  natural  scale,  is  the  simplest  and 
most  natural  expression  of  the  voice.  It  is  the  key- 
note of  the  speaking  voice.  At  that  point,  if  exer- 
cised in  an  easy  and  unexcited  way,  the  voice  will 
produce  a  sound  which,  in  its  first  audible  moment, 
will  resemble  a  grunt.  If  a  public  speaker,  even  of 
ordinary  vocal  vigor,  will  learn  to  begin  at  that 
pitch,  he  can  speak  for  hours  without  peril  or  fatigue. 


IN  TIIE  PULPIT.  285 

What  disables  so  many  public  speakers,  is  not  the 
frequent  use,  but  the  misuse  or  overstraining  of  their 
voices.  A  well-known  minister,  yet  living,  com- 
plained some  years  ago,  in  my  presence,  that  it 
pained  his  throat  to  speak.  I  suggested  that  he 
would  lower  the  key  at  which  he  began  to  speak, 
bringing  it  down  to  the  simple  and  easy  grunt.  He 
tried  it,  but  found  it  a  tough  work  to  break  up  a 
habit  which  had  become  a  part  of  himself.  But  he 
persevered  and  conquered.  Before  entering  the  pul- 
pit, he  would  coax  his  voice  down  to  the  right  pitch, 
and  by  a  continuous  grunt,  audible  to  himself  only, 
he  would  hold  it  there  until  he  put  it  out  in  the 
reading  of  his  first  hymn. 

A  speaker's  voice  always  ranges  above  his  start- 
ing point,  and  if  it  has  variety  and  flexibility,  will 
run  up  an  octave.  If  he  begins  on  C,  he  will  have 
full  range  for  his  voice  in  its  strongest  and  most 
thrilling  modulations.  Dr.  Jeter  always  commenced 
on  G  of  the  natural  octave, — that  is,  five  points  too 
high, — and  his  voice,  marvelous  in  its  elasticity  and 
reach,  would  soar  upward  from  that  pitch  into  an 
elevation  almost  as  far  as  the  best  tenor  voice  can 
go. 

This,  of  course,  was  unnatural.  It  was  a  terrible 
strain  on  him,  and  but  for  the  wonderful  strength  of 
his  constitution,  and  the  extraordinary  elasticity  of 
his  vocal  chords,  it  must  have  produced  throat  dis- 
ease, and  ended,  either  in  permanent  disability,  or 
death.  As  it  was,  his  voice  accepted  the  inevitable, 
and  served  faithfully  for  sixty  years.  But  it  worked 
under  constant  protest.     In  every  note  it  uttered, 


286  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

it  proclaimed  its  grievances  and  mournfully  lamented 
its  hardships. 

It  always  gave  Dr.  Jeter  trouble.  He  said  of 
himself  that  he  was  a  "constitutional  cougher."  He 
declared  that  he  had  spent  at  least  three  years  in 
the  actual  operation  of  coughing.  Whether  he 
thought  so  or  not  I  never  knew,  but  I  never  doubted 
that  this  arose  from  the  irritation  of  his  vocal  organs, 
brought  on  by  his  speaking  on  a  too  elevated  key. 

While  on  this  subject,  I  must  mention  what  was 
always  an  interesting  fact  to  me.  I  noticed  on  sev- 
eral occasions  when  Dr.  Jeter  spoke — privately,  I 
mean — in  a  sort  of  unconscious  way,  his  voice  would 
drop  to  C  of  the  natural  octave,  and  while  his  lower 
tones  were  seriously  enfeebled  by  disuse,  they  were 
yet  sonorous  and  rich.  I  confess  that  it  touched 
me  whenever  I  heard  those  deep  and  mellow  notes. 
They  were  sad  reminders  of  what  his  voice  might 
have  been,  if  properly  trained  in  his  youth.  Few 
men  ever  possessed  such  a  rare  musical  apparatus  as 
did  Dr.  Jeter.  It  had  strength,  versatility,  depth 
and  penetration.  It  did  its  work  under  many  dis- 
advantages ;  but  glorious,  indeed,  was  the  work 
which  it  did. 

After  speaking  with  such  plainness  about  this  pe- 
culiarity in  Dr.  Jeter's  manner,  I  ought  to  suggest 
to  those  who  never  heard  him,  that  they  must  not 
form  an  exaggerated  opinion  as  to  its  effect  upon  his 
preaching.  It  was,  indeed,  a  singular  and  objection- 
able blemish.  To  strangers,  it  was  startling  and  un- 
pleasant. It  sometimes  provoked  adverse  criticisms, 
and  even  rendered  him  the  butt  of  merriment  and  jest. 


IN  THE  PULPIT.  287 

Dr.  Ryland  relates  an  incident  that  shows  how 
that,  occasionally,  Dr.  Jeter  was  so  careless  in  the 
use  of  his  voice  as  to  excite  the  laughter  of  his 
hearers.  The  Doctor  was  once  at  the  University  of 
Virginia,  and  attended  religious  services,  during 
which  a  very  solemn  sermon  was  preached  by  an 
Episcopal  minister.  At  the  end  of  the  discourse,  he 
was  invited  to  lead  in  prayer.  He  began  his  peti- 
tion by  saying  "  0,  Lord,"  in  a  tone  so  sharp,  queer 
and  undevout  that  the  whole  audience  was  amused. 
One  of  the  professors,  an  humble  and  devout  Chris- 
tian, said  afterwards  that  when  he  heard  that  singu- 
lar ejaculation,  his  first  thought  was  that  some  one 
had  pierced  Dr.  Jeter  with  a  needle,  and  that  it  was 
an  outcry  of  pain.  When  he  found  that  this  was 
not  so,  it  became  difficult  for  him  to  restrain  himself 
from  audible  laughter. 

Many  ludicrous  and  even  offensive  anecdotes  were 
circulated  at  the  expense  of  Dr.  Jeter  which,  mani- 
festly, had  no  foundation  in  fact.  Some  persons 
were  foolish  enough  to  suppose  that  they  could  tell 
anything  about  Dr.  Jeter  without  giving  offence.  A 
popular  lecturer  once  ventured  to  relate  before  a 
Richmond  audience  the  hideous  joke  of  the  tearful 
woman  who  said  that  Dr.  Jeter's  voice  reminded  her 
of  a  favorite  mule  which  she  had  lately  lost.  It  was 
one  of  those  shocking  and  impossible  things  that 
ought  never  to  have  been  repeated.  Dr.  Jeter  was 
present,  and  heard  it  for  the  first  time.  He  did  not 
relish  it,  and  the  audience,  composed  largely  of  his 
friends,  saw  no  fun  in  the  story.  His  voice  was  his 
weakest  point;  but  it  never  deserved  the  remorse- 


288  LIFE  OF  JEEEMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

less  criticisms  which  thoughtless  people   sometimes 
felt  justified  in  indulging  at  its  expense. 

Dr.  Jeter  knew  that  his  voice  sometimes  struck 
people  unpleasantly.  It  produced  effects  which,  at 
times,  amused  him  as  well  as  others.  There  was 
one  story  which  he  loved  to  tell  on  himself,  and  he 
put  it  in  his  "  Recollections."     Here  it  is  : 

Certain  it  is,  many  plain  people  value  sermons  more  on  ac- 
count of  the  intonations  in  their  delivery  than  the  thoughts  they 
convey.  In  confirmation  of  this  remark,  I  had  a  striking  in- 
stance in  my  own  experience.  Many  years  ago,  an  artless 
stranger,  whom  I  casually  met,  said  to  me :  "I  hear  you  preach 
every  Sunday.  You  are  the  greatest  preacher  I  ever  did  hear." 
"  Ah !"  said  I,  "  you  have  not,  I  suppose,  heard  Mr.  M.  preach." 
At  that  time  Mr.  M.  was  attracting  great  attention  by  his  ser- 
mons. "  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  I  have  heard  Mr.  M.  several  times. 
He  is  a  great  preacher ;  but  he  is  not  so  great  a  preacher  as  you 
are.  You  have  the  most  mournfullest  voice  of  any  man  I  ever  did 
hear."  It  was  evident  that  not  my  thoughts  or  style,  but  the 
modulation  of  my  voice,  though  I  had  not  attained  to  the  holy 
art  of  "  intoning,"  had  won  the  admiration  of  my  strange  hearer. 

It  occurred  to  me  at  times  that  Dr.  Jeter  was 
hampered  by  a  consciousness  of  this  vocal  infirmity. 
He  often  appeared  constrained  and  uneasy,  when 
brought  before  strange  and  critical  audiences.  He 
was  a  great  believer  in  what  he  called  conversational 
preaching.  He  said  preachers  ought  to  talk  in  the 
pulpit.  He  expressed  regret  that  he  had  not  culti- 
vated the  colloquial  style,  but  said  that,  with  his 
voice,  he  could  never  have  done  so  with  any  high 
degree  of  success.  For  Rev.  J.  E.  Hutson,  a  well- 
known  and  useful  evangelist,  he  expressed  the  high- 
est admiration,  because  he  was  so  simple  and  natural 


IN  THE   PULPIT.  289 

in  his  public  speech.  It  was  just  like  him  to  admire 
in  others  that  which  he  felt,  he  did  not  himself  pos- 
sess. 

After  all,  Dr.  Jeter's  voice  did  not  seriously  inter- 
fere with  his  popularity  or  usefulness.  As  he  was 
called  to  the  pastorate  of  many  leading  churches,  it 
may  be  inferred  that  it  was  not  considered,  even  by 
the  most  fastidious,  as  seriously  objectionable.  While 
it  was  out  of  harmony  with  his  dignified  and  magnif- 
icent presence,  it  had  the  air  of  perfect  naturalness. 
It  was  altogether  different  from  the  sing-song  tone 
of  the  old-time  preachers,  though  it  must  be  admit- 
ted that  sometimes,  in  his  moments  of  high  spiritual 
excitement,  there  were  easily  discoverable  traces  of 
the  "  holy  tone"  which  he  so  often  heard  in  the  days 
of  his  youth.  Nor  could  his  voice,  in  any  fairness, 
be  compared  with  that  whine,  so  artificial  and  intol- 
erable, which  is  now  in  high  fashion  among  those 
who  intone  their  services.  Those  who  heard  him 
regularly  soon  forgot  the  singular  intonation  of  his 
voice,  and  relished  the  message  which  it  brought  as 
heartily  as  if  it  had  been  spoken  by  the  rich  and 
silvery  voice  of  Chrysostom.  In  some  there  is  a 
disposition  to  fall  in  ■  love  with  what  is  odd  and 
strikingly  personal  in  others,  and  so  there  were  per- 
sons who  thought  that  Dr.  Jeter  had  a  very  excel- 
lent voice. 

It  ought  to  be  added  that  when  Dr.  Jeter  was 
thoroughly  himself  and  his  voice  rolled  out  from  his 
lips,  freighted  with  rich  and  burning  thought,  it  was 
pleasant  indeed  to  hear.  It  ceased  to  be  thin  and 
cutting,  and  became  musical  and  even  majestic.  I 
19 


290  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

have  heard  him  preach  many  times  when  he  so 
completely  subdued  and  thrilled  me,  that  I  abso- 
lutely forgot  that  he  had  a  voice. 

His  voice  was  singularly  penetrating  and  capa- 
ble of  being  heard  at  great  distances.  He  went 
once  to  Culpeper  County  to  labor  with  Dr.  W.  F. 
Broaddus  and  Barnett  Grimsley  in  a  camp-meet- 
ing. As  the  meeting  was  held  in  a  grove,  it  was 
feared  that  he  could  not  be  heard.  This  fear  proved 
utterly  groundless,  for  it  was  soon  discovered  that 
the  great  multitude  could  hear  him,  much  more 
distinctly  than  the  other  brethren,  both  of  whom 
had  deep  and  strong  voices. 

Dr.  Jeter  had  a  great  ambition  to  preach  well. 
He  loved  to  be  criticised  when  it  was  done  in  a  fra- 
ternal spirit.  He  was  quick  to  see  his  faults  when 
reminded  of  them,  and  he  never  rested  until  he  cor- 
rected tb em.  In  Dr.  Robert  Ryland  he  had  a  sharp 
and  faithful  critic,  under  whose  keen  blade  he  was 
relieved  from  many  excrescences.  In  the  notes 
below  Dr.  Ryland  tells  how  he  cured  him  of  two 
bad  habits : 

During  the  early  part  of  his  Richmond  pastorate  he  was  the 
subject  of  two  especially  inelegant  habits.  The  one  was  the  ut- 
terance, in  preaching,  of  an  unmeaning  sound  at  the  close  of  a 
phrase  or  sentence.  It  was  not  the  adjunct  "  ah,"  which  many 
speakers  use  after  a  word,  when  they  are  at  a  loss  for  the  next 
word.  I  am  told  that  this  is  often  heard  in  the  British  Parlia- 
ment, though  it  is  not  the  less  vulgar  on  that  account.  It  was  a 
sound  that  issued,  not  from  the  front  region  of  the  mouth,  but 
from  the  throat, — a  noise  that  I  can  designate  only  by  the  word 
grunt.  I  told  him  of  this  habit ;  but  he  stoutly  denied  the  fact, 
and  expressed  great  surprise  at  my  criticism.     "  Well,"  said  I, 


IN  THE  PULPIT.  291 

"if  you  will  allow  me,  I  will  prove  it  to  you."  "How?''  "I 
will  sit  behind  you  next  Sunday,  and  when  you  grunt,  I  will 
clear  my  throat  distinctly  and  make  you  aware  of  it."  To  this 
he  readily  assented,  and  the  next  Sunday  I  was  on  hand,  and 
sat  immediately  in  his  rear.  During  the  first  few  sentences  he 
was  very  guarded.  But  when  he  got  well  on  his  way  and  be- 
came somewhat  absorbed  in  his  subject,  he  made  a  slight  guttural 
suffix  to  a  sentence,  which  I  allowed  to  pass  unrebuked.  Pres- 
ently, becoming  still  more  inspired  with  his  theme  and  more  for- 
getful of  self,  he  uttered  his  loud  grunt,  and  I  subjoined  a  loud 
ahem.  He  flinched  as  though  a  spoonful  of  cold  water  were 
poured  down  his  back,  and  after  floundering  through  a  few  par- 
agraphs, he  sat  down.  I  had  certainly  ruined  a  sermon,  but 
had  given  a  death-blow  to  a  vulgarism  of  which  he  had  been 
seemingly  unconscious. 

The  other  fault  alleged  against  him,  was  the  wearing  on  his 
face  at  certain  points  of  his  sermons  an  unnatural  smile.  It  was 
not  the  sweet  expression  of  a  loving  nature,  but  a  strange  mix- 
ture of  irony  and  levity, — in  fact,  a  sort  of  sardonic  grin  that 
was  very  distasteful.  To  this  charge  also  he  pleaded  not  guilty, 
and  appealed  to  his  wife  for  defence.  But  she  meekly,  though 
firmly,  attested  the  fact.  Of  this  habit  he  freed  himself  with  his 
characteristic  promptness;  but  I  never  heard  by  what  special 
means. 

It  was  often  urged  against  Dr.  Jeter  that  he  was 
too  slow  in  the  opening  part  of  his  sermon.  He 
was  very  deliberate,  but  several  things  ought  to  be 
taken  into  the  account.  His  sermons  were  struc- 
tures, and  in  the  beginning  he  was  always  critical 
in  his  expositions.  This  required  a  calm  and  slow 
manner.  He  could  not  speak  rapidly,  except  under 
a  glow  of  feeling,  and  his  heart  did  not  warm  up 
very  rapidly.  His  sensibilities  were  deep,  and  not 
speedily  stirred,  but  when  once  aroused  his  emotions 
rolled  like  waves  of  the  sea.     He  was  not  one  of 


292  LIFE  0F  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D 

those  superficial  natures  that  could  be  whipped  into 
a  tempest  in  a  moment. 

It  ought  to  be  added  that  he  always  entered  the 
pulpit  with  some  misgivings.  The  dread  of  failure 
pursued  him  like  a  phantom,  and  when  he  com- 
menced his  sermon,  he  walked  like  a  giant  who  was 
uncertain  of  his  footing.  He  did  not  often  break 
down  absolutely  in  his  sermons,  though  he  did  some- 
times, but  he  often  fell  below  himself.  Some  of  his 
regular  hearers  estimated  that  he  preached  well 
every  other  time.  If  his  sermon  went  well  in  the 
morning,  and  used  up  his  nervous  vitality,  they  did 
not  expect  much  of  him  at  night.  But  if  he  was 
flat  and  juiceless  in  the  morning,  they  confidently 
anticipated  that  he  would  come  forth  in  his  full 
strength  at  night.  He  once  said  to  me  that  he  had 
never  learned  how  to  preach.  He  remarked  that 
the  most  elaborate  preparation  never  gave  him  an 
adequate  guarantee  that  he  would  be  successful  in 
the  delivery  of  his  sermon,  and  that,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  most  hurried  and  imperfect  preparation 
was  no  sure  sign  of  failure. 

He  had  some  sermons  that  were  the  growth  of  a 
life-time,  made  in  his  loftiest  moments,  familiarized 
by  frequent  repetitions  and  enriched  by  fruits  which 
he  had  plucked  from  the  loftiest  heights  to  which 
he  ever  rose  in  preaching.  These  he  delighted  to 
preach.  When  once  in  a  meeting  with  him,  I  re- 
quested him  to  repeat  a  sermon  which  he  had  de- 
livered a  week  before  with  transcendent  power,  at 
another  place.  He  declined  with  a  sad  shake  of  his 
head,  and  observed  that  the  fact  that  he  had  preached 


IN  THE  PULPIT.  293 

it  well  so  recently,  was  rather  prophetic  of  a  failure, 
if  he  tried  it  again. 

He  was  easily  upset  and  thrown  out  of  kelter, 
especially  at  the  opening  of  his  sermons.  Not  that 
he  was  ever  nervous  or  irritable  in  the  pulpit,  but  he 
was  easily  diverted  from  his  line  of  thought.  Some- 
times the  most  trivial  causes  would  throw  him  from 
his  track,  and  when  once  he  went  awry,  it  was  hard 
for  him  to  recover. 

It  may  be  safely  put  forth  as  a  general  proposition 
that  Dr.  Jeter  was  never  commonplace  on  extraor- 
dinary occasions.  He  always  managed  to  avoid 
mediocrity  either  by  rising  far  above  it,  or  falling 
below  it.  If  everything  was  propitious,  and  he  be- 
came fully  inspired,  his  sermons  were  thrillingly 
eloquent  and  overpowering  in  their  effects,  but  if  he 
became  oppressed  with  self-consciousness,  or  if  there 
was  aught  in  his  surroundings,  to  distract  his  mind, 
he  would  sorely  disappoint  the  expectations  of  his 
hearers.  It  would  be  easy  to  multiply  examples 
alike  of  his  triumphs  and  his  downfalls. 

In  the  following  extract  from  "  Reminiscences  of 
J.  B.  Jeter,"  written  for  the  Religious  Herald  in 
1885,  by  Dr.  T.  S.  Dunn  away,  we  have  an  account 
of  one  of  his  notable  successes  : 

At  a  meeting  of  the  Rappahannock  Association,  held  with 
Morattico  Church  in  the  year  1878,  the  body  on  the  second  day 
adjourned  to  the  stand  to  hear  a  sermon  from  Dr.  Jeter.  His 
text  was  John  iii.  17 :  "  For  God  sent  not  his  Son  into  the 
world  to  condemn  the  world,  but  that  the  world  through  him 
might  be  saved."  Circumstances  favored  success.  The  theme 
was  inspiring ;  the  vast  audience  was  sympathetic ;  the  place  was 
the  scene  of  his  first  pastoral  labors.     I  have  never  witnessed  a 


294  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

happier  or  more  electrifying  effect  produced  by  a  sermon.  Many 
in  the  great  congregation  were  melted  into  tears,  and  the  many 
preachers  in  the  stand  with  him  were  so  overwhelmed  with 
emotion  at  the  close  of  the  sermon,  that  not  one  of  them  could, 
for  a  time,  announce  a  hymn  or  lead  in  prayer. 

It  may  be  well  to  add  here  an  instance  on  the 
other  side.  A  few  years  before  his  death,  he  at- 
tended the  Strawberry  Association  which  met  near 
the  spot  at  which  he  was  converted.  His  presence 
was  noised  abroad,  and  there  was  a  great  and  ex- 
pectant crowd.  His  old  friends  and  kindred  hailed 
the  occasion  with  deep  delight.  He  was  appointed 
to  preach  at  the  stand  in  the  grove.  As  he  appeared 
upon  the  platform,  his  solemn  dignity,  lofty  form  and 
snow-white  locks  marked  him  at  once  as  a  prince 
among  men.  He  introduced  the  services  with  ap- 
propriate solemnity,  and  after  announcing  his  text, 
ventured  to  digress  from  his  appointed  track,  by  a  re- 
ference to  his  conversion.  Lifting  his  long  right  arm, 
and  slowly  pointing  to  a  mountain  hollow,  plainly  in 
view,  he  said,  "  Right  over  there,  my  friends,  more 
than  a  half-century  ago,  I  gave  myself  to  Christ  and 
found  him  precious  to  my  soul.  Since  then,  I  have 
sought  to  serve  him,  and  while  I  know  that  I  have 
been  unworthy  and  often  unfaithful  I  can  testify 
that  he  has  ever  been  faithful  to  me."  It  was  a 
beautiful  testimony,  fittingly  and  tenderly  borne,  and 
the  great  audience  was  profoundly  touched.  He,  too, 
was  moved  and  all  the  signs  seemed  favorable  for  a 
great  sermon.  He  then  undertook  to  descend  from 
his  elevated  plane,  and  to  adjust  himself  to  the  track 
of  his  discourse — but  his  capricious  memory  turned 


IN  THE  PULPIT.  295 

against  him.  His  sermon  had  faded  from  his  mind, 
and,  after  standing  for  a  while,  vacant  and  helpless, 
he  took  his  seat.  It  was  a  surprising  result  to  his 
friends,  and  he,  of  course,  was  mortified.  But  he 
had  been  through  that  ordeal  too  often  to  yield  to  any 
undue  despondency.  He  appeared  in  the  Associa- 
tion later,  and  spoke  with  an  ardor  and  eloquence 
which  redeemed  him. 

Even  his  failures  were  interesting.  They  never 
cost  him  the  respect  of  his  audience.  A  stranger, 
in  witnessing  one  of  his  break-downs,  could  not  fail 
to  see,  even  in  his  weakness,  the  unmistakable  signs 
of  his  strength.  Sometimes  his  dullest  sermons  and 
even  his  downright  failures  were  crowned  with 
tokens  of  Divine  power.  Dr.  Dunnaway  furnishes  a 
case  in  point : 

While  pastor  in  the  Northern  Neck  he  attempted  to  preach  at 
a  night  meeting,  conducted  at  the  house  of  my  grandfather. 
Soon  after  announcing  his  text,  finding  it  quite  impossible  to 
proceed  with  his  discourse,  and  so  saying  to  the  congregation,  he 
called  on  a  brother  present  to  lead  in  prayer.  Moved  with 
sympathy  for  his  pastor,  and  feeling  the  need  of  Divine  help, 
the  deacon  prayed  with  unwonted  fervor;  the  congregation  was 
moved  to  tears ;  the  power  and  presence  of  the  Spirit  was  mani- 
fest, and  several  persons  professed  faith  in  Christ — among  the 
number  my  sainted  mother,  and  the  beloved  and  lamented  Wm. 
H.  Kirk,  who  became  a  useful  and  devoted  minister.  Thus  was 
verified  the  Divine  declaration,  "  My  strength  is  made  perfect  in 
weakness."  This  liability  to  failure  is  quite  common  with  the 
class  of  persons  who,  at  other  times,  have  the  nerve  and  genius 
to  rise  very  high.  The  quail  which  just  skims  the  earth's  surface 
in  its  flight  never  falls  low,  for  the  reason  it  never  rises  high. 
It  is  the  majestic  eagle,  proud  denizen  of  the  air,  soaring  above 
cloud  and  tempest,  basking  in  the  sunlight  of  the  aerial  regions, 


296  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

or  balancing  itself  with  motionless  wings  in  the  high  vault  of 
heaven,  that  is  capable  of  the  greatest  descent.  And  so  it  is  with 
the  preacher.  He  who  at  times  soars  highest,  and  sways 
audiences  with  his  burning  eloquence  and  melting  pathos,  is 
liable  to  fall  much  below  himself,  and  even  at  times  to  make 
signal  failures.  It  is  the  mediocre,  dead-level  man  who  neither 
rises  high  nor  falls  low. 

He  came  in  time  to  regard  his  pulpit  failures,  if 
they  deserved  to  be  called  by  a  term  so  sweeping, 
with  a  quiet  and  unruffled  temper.  While  he  feared 
for  their  effect  on  others,  he  did  not  seem  to  feel  any 
anxiety,  as  to  their  influence  on  his  reputation.  In- 
deed, he  appeared  to  see  the  ludicrous  aspect  of  his 
unlucky  performances,  and  to  find  a  grim  enjoyment 
in  it. 

Soon  after  leaving  college  I  was  with  him  in  a 
protracted  meeting  in  Amelia  County.  Almost  every 
morning,  when  looking  over  his  manuscripts,  and 
selecting,  his  sermon  for  the  day,  he  would  refer 
rather  complacently  to  his  sermon  on  "  the  Brazen 
Serpent."  It  was  evidently  one  of  his  favorites.  It 
had  done  valuable  execution  in  his  Master's  service 
elsewhere,  and  he  was  fond  of  preaching  it.  He 
spoke  of  it  so  often,  that  I  said  to  him  more  than 
once — "  Bring  him  out ;  give  us  your  Brazen  Serpent 
to-day."  But  he  did  not  do  so.  He  saved  that  for 
his  last,  and  as  I  had  never  heard  it  I  supposed  it 
would  be  his  best.  But  it  proved  an  unlucky  day 
for  the  Brazen  Serpent.  The  Doctor  did  not  break 
down,  but  his  manner  was  painfully  stilted  and  his 
delivery  frigid  and  feeble.  Apparently  the  sermon 
produced  no  effect.     I  was  a  little  slow  in  getting 


IN  THE  PULPIT.  297 

out  to  the  dinner  table  in  the  yard,  and  when  I 
reached  there,  I  found  him  already  on  hand,  and  de- 
vouring his  dinner  with  a  gusto  in  no  degree  abated 
by  the  disaster  of  the  morning.  He  met  me,  as  I 
walked  up,  and  with  a  grim  and  comical  twinkle  in 
his  eye,  said,  "  Well,  after  all,  my  Brazen  Serpent 
proved  a  flash  in  the  pan."  As  I  was  booked  for  a 
sermon  that  afternoon,  and  was  very  anxious  to  put 
him  in,  as  a  substitute,  I  was  bold  enough  to  tell 
him  that  the  Brazen  Serpent  had  not  gone  well,  and 
suggested  that  he  ought  to  preach  again,  before 
leaving  the  community.  He  replied  that  if  he 
did,  he  might  go  from  bad  to  worse ;  but  that  he 
would  "  Take  a  turn  in  the  bushes  and  see  if  he 
could  beat  up  another  sermon."  He  preached  that 
afternoon  on  the  "  Woman  that  was  a  Sinner,"  and 
it  was  a  sermon  of  irresistible  power. 

It  was  his  custom  to  write  his  sermons,  either  in 
full  or  in  part,  and  for  many  years,  he  usually  had 
his  manuscript  before  him.  That  it  was  wise  for 
him  to  write  his  sermons  can  hardly  be  questioned, 
but  I  think  that  it  was  a  great  mistake  that  he  ever 
became  accustomed  to  the  use  of  notes  in  the  pulpit. 
This  remark  is  not  born  of  prejudice,  on  my  part 
against  sermon-reading,  or  other  mechanical  aids  to 
the  memory,  though  I  must  say  in  simple  truth  that 
my  enthusiasm  has-  never  gone  wild  in  favor  of 
manuscript-preachers.  Some  men  can  handle  a 
manuscript  with  tact,  and  can  use  it  without  losing 
that  glowing  passion  which  is  the  highest  charm  of 
an  orator. 

But  this  was  not  the  case  with  Dr.  Jeter.     When 


298  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B   JETER,  D.D. 

he  used  the  manuscript,  he  used  it,  and  made  no  at- 
tempt to  disguise  the  fact  from  his  audience.  And 
when  he  used  notes,  he  spread  them  out  before  the 
public  eye,  referring  to  them  in  a  sober  and  self- 
respecting  way.  He  did  not  imitate  those  preachers 
who  attempt  to  use  their  manuscripts  clandestinely, 
as  if  they  were  doing  a  dastardly  thing  and  were 
afraid  they  would  be  taken  in  the  act. 

His  way  was  far  better,  and  yet  it  did  not  suit 
him  to  use  a  manuscript.  It  put  a  weight  upon  him. 
Being  very  tall  and  not  quick-eyed,  he  often  had  to 
bend  and  scan  the  paper,  in  order  to  find  the  place. 
He  could  not  rattle  smoothly  along,  in  the  discus- 
sion of  one  part  of  his  subject  while  searching  among 
his  notes  for  his  next  point. 

He  usually  paused,  in  the  strain  of  his  remarks, 
and  gave  himself  to  the  one  point  of  finding  what 
was  next  to  be  said.  When  confined  to  his  manu- 
script, he  was  always  enfeebled  in  his  delivery. 
Elocutionists  may  read,  but  orators  speak.  Dr.  Jeter 
was  too  much  of  an  orator  to  prosper  in  the  rdle  of 
a  declaimer.  He  never  did  his  best,  except  when 
untrammeled  by  notes. 

I  have  said  that  the  use  of  mechanical  helps  in  the 
pulpit  was  a  mistake  in  his  case.  It  was  worse  than 
a  mistake ;  it  was  a  positive  injury.  His  memory, 
in  point  of  vigor  and  retentiveness,  was  extraordi- 
nary, and  his  mind  moved  upon  a  logical  track.  For 
men  who  are  florid  in  style,  fond  of  making  poetic 
quotations,  and  without  methodical  arrangement,  in 
their  sermons,  a  manuscript  is  a  necessity.  But 
Dr.    Jeter's    sermons   were    structures.     They  were 


IN  THE  PULPIT.  299 

closely  concatenated  lines  of  thought.  They  grew 
out  of  the  text,  and  were  put  together,  with  the  skill 
of  a  master.  His  divisions  were  simple  and  orderly, 
each  suggesting  that  which  was  to  follow.  Such 
sermons  can  be  committed,  and  recalled  without  diffi- 
culty. Almost  any  attentive  and  sympathetic  auditor, 
after  listening  to  Dr.  Jeter,  could  easily  reproduce 
the  points  of  his  sermon  in  their  order.  My  convic- 
tion is  very  decided,  therefore,  that  he  ought  never 
to  have  entangled  himself  with  manuscripts  or  notes. 
This  he  came  finally  to  realize,  and  in  his  later  life 
he  made  a  desperate  effort  to  break  from  the  bondage 
of  his  habit. 

But  it  was,  then,  too  late.  He  refused  to  trust  his 
memory  in  the  days  of  its  strength  and  it  never  for- 
gave him  for  the  wrong.  It  grew  fitful,  coquettish 
and  cranky.  Spoiled  by  being  unduly  helped  in  its 
task,  it  became  capricious  and  balky.  At  times,  it 
would  perform  its  duty  with  admirable  fidelity,  and 
then  again  it  would  refuse  to  budge.  Such  was  the 
penalty  which  he  had  to  pay  for  sinning  against  his 
memory.  It  is  worth  while  for  young  preachers  to 
bear  in  mind,  that  a  memory  generously  cultivated 
and  firmly  trusted,  is  capable  of  almost  indefinite 
improvement  and  service. 

I  believe  that  this  is  the  explanation  of  those 
painful  hitches  which  sometimes  befell  him,  in  his 
attempts  to  preach.  He  may  have  had  other  mental 
crotchets,  but  his  tricky  memory  was  his  weakest 
point.  It  rendered  him  uneasy,  timid  and  self-con- 
scious. He  was  like  a  king,  going  into  battle  under 
the  dread  suspicion,  that  his  chief  general  was  a 


300  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

traitor  and  might  turn  against  him  at  the  critical 
moment. 

There  were  times  when  his  memory  got  sulky  in 
advance,  so  that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  call  up 
an  old  sermon  when  he  wished  to  use  it.  Here  is  a 
case  in  point : 

Dr.  Jeter  had  a  sermon  he  called  his  "  Eel-Sermon."  It  was 
quite  famous  in  its  day.  He  was  often  solicited  to  repeat  it. 
On  some  public  occasion,  at  one  of  the  large  gatherings  in  the 
country,  he  was  solicited  to  preach  this  sermon.  He  went  out 
into  the  woods  and  walked  to  and  fro  for  nearly  an  hour,  attempt- 
ing to  recall  the  discussion  and  prepare  himself  properly  to 
preach  it.  All  his  efforts  were  without  avail.  After  wrestling 
with  his  topic  for  some  time,  he  finally  gave  it  up  as  hopeless 
that  day.  On  his  return,  he  was  asked  if  he  would  preach  that 
sermon.  "No!  no!"  he  replied,  "  the  slippery  thing  gets  away 
from  me.  I  must  try  something  else."  He  did  try  something 
else  and  preached  with  his  usual  power. 

The  slipperiness  with  which  he  charges  his  sermon 
ought  to  be  put  to  the  account  of  his  memory.  That 
was  famous  for  its  slips. 

It  was  sometimes  pitiable,  to  look  at  him  when  he 
fell  a  victim  to  the  trickiness  of  his  memory.  It 
gave  to  him  a  cowed  and  helpless  mien  which  was 
distressing  to  behold.  He  was  once  preaching  at 
Peterville  Church,  Powhatan  County,  Virginia,  on 
"  Moses'  Invitation  to  Hobab."  After  giving  the 
context,  he  approached  the  discussion,  but  he  was  evi- 
dently out  of  sorts.  He  moved  heavily,  and  presently 
came  to  a  dead  halt.  Slowly  reaching  his  hand 
around  into  his  coat  pocket  behind  him,  he  drew  out  a 
little  black  book  and  said  in  a  deeply  lugubrious  tone, 
"  I  find  my  memory  is  treacherous  this  morning  and 


IN  THE  PULPIT.  301 

I  will  have  to  use  my  notes."  He  spread  them  be- 
fore him,  but  the  bad  behavior  of  his  memory  had 
thrown  a  pall  over  the  entire  household  of  his  fac- 
ulties. They  would  not  work.  He  was  utterly 
devoid  of  enlarging  power.  He  crept  timidly  along 
the  line  of  his  notes,  and,  as  they  were  brief,  he 
speedily  reached  the  end.  When  he  took  his  seat,  he 
looked  as  gloomy  and  crest-fallen  as  if  he  had  just 
been  condemned  to  be  shot.  At  his  request  I  fol- 
lowed in  an  exhortation,  and  closed  the  meeting, 
feeling  unusually  solemn  and  tender.  As  I  did  not 
know  what  to  say  to  him,  I  concluded  to  slip  out  of 
the  pulpit  in  silence.  As  I  was  leaving  he  caught 
me,  and,  drawing  me  back,  said,  "  My  heart  feels 
like  a  vacuum  and  my  head  like  a  pumpkin." 

It  sometimes  happened  that  his  memory  would 
trip  him  at  the  moment  of  his  highest  exhilaration, 
and  when  he  was  in  the  midst  of  his  boldest  nights. 
He  was  preaching  at  the  Grace  Street  Baptist  Church 
one  Sunday  morning  on  "The  Dignity  of  the  Chris- 
tian Life."  At  one  point  he  compared  the  glory  of 
the  christian  with  the  distinctions  of  earth,  and 
showed  its  superiority. 

He  was  in  the  preaching  humor  and  was  towering 
in  his  passionate  eloquence.  Rising  to  the  climax, 
and  with  his  voice  at  the  highest  pitch,  he  ex- 
claimed :  "  I  would  rather  be  a  christian  than  to 
have  the  wealth  of  the  Rothschilds ;  I  would  rather  be 
a  christian  than  to  be  the  President  of  these  United 
States ;  I  would  rather  be  a  christian  than  to  wear 
the  crown  of  England ;  I  would  rather  be  a  christian 
(here  he  was  very  high)  than  to — than  to  be  (here  he 


302  EIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

began  to  shake  and  fall)  rather  be  a  christian,  I  say, — 
than — than  to  be — than,  I  say,  to  be — Julius  Caesar  /" 
Why  he  lugged  in  the  tyrannical  Julius  at  this  point 
I  never  knew.  He  may  have  thought  that  he 
would  meet  the  exigencies  of  the  case,  inasmuch  as 
the  imperial  Csesar  is  reputed  to  be  useful  in  "  stop- 
ping a  crack  to  keep  the  wind  away."  I  suspected 
that  he  brought  in  the  blood-thirsty  old  Roman  in  a 
spirit  of  vexation  and  as  a  curt  way  of  expressing 
contempt  for  himself. 

He  was  always  in  peril  of  shipwreck  when  he 
undertook  to  recall  names.  He  forgot  his  wife's 
name  once  while  at  the  post-office,  and  went  home 
to  see  about  it.  He  was  giving  notice  from  the 
pulpit  that  a  certain  brother  would  deliver  a  lecture 
on  "  Religion  in  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia." 
By  an  odd  dislocation  of  terms  he  announced  that 
the  subject  of  the  lecture  would  be  "  Religion  in  the 
Northern  Army  of  Virginia."  An  instant  flutter  in 
the  audience  told  him  plainly  enough  that  he  had 
made  a  mistake,  and  so  he  went  over  it  again,  put- 
ting it,  however,  exactly  in  the  the  same  way.  This 
provoked  audible  laughter,  and  so  with  vast  par- 
ticularity he  went  over  it  again,  but  seeing  that  he 
was  only  making  matters  worse,  he  said,  "  The  lec- 
ture will  be  on  '  Religion  in  General  Lee's  Army,' 
and  if  that  is  not  plain  enough,  read  the  newspapers 
and  see  for  yourselves." 

A  while  before  his  death  he  preached  at  the  First 
Church  one  Sunday  morning,  and  administered  the 
Lord's  Supper.  As  he  was  breaking  the  bread,  he 
remarked  :  "  When  I  stand  here,  I  always  feel  like  in- 


IN  THE  PULPIT.  303 

dulging  in  reminiscences.  The  forms  and  faces  of 
loved  ones  now  gone  to  their  reward  come  back  to 
view.  I  remember  a  dear  brother  who  used  to  sit 
right  over  there,  (pointing  in  a  certain  direction.) 
He  was  a  large,  portly  man  and  a  very  godly  man. 
I  knew  him  well.  He  was  a  miller  by  trade."  At 
this  point  he  wished  to  give  the  brother's  name, 
but  it  was  not  forthcoming.  After  a  pause,  he  con- 
tinued. "  He  was  a  large,  portly  man  and  a  very 
godly  man — a  miller  by  trade  and  I  knew  him  well." 
Still,  the  name  would  not  come.  He  went  over  it  all 
again,  and  finally,  out  of  all  heart,  he  turned  and 
asked,  "Brother  D.,  what  was  his  name?"  "  Frank- 
lin," said  the  brother,  and  Dr.  Jeter,  completely  un- 
hinged for  the  moment,  forgot  the  Supper  and  took 
his  seat. 

I  must  not  multiply  illustrations  of  the  treachery 
of  his  memory.  I  may  be  pardoned,  however,  for 
adding,  at  least,  one  more,  since  it  fell  under  my 
own  eyes  and  was  so  characteristic. 

In  the  winter  of  1859  I  went  to  Grace  Street  Church 
one  Sunday  night  to  hear  him  preach.  His  audience 
was  not  large,  but  he  seemed  to  be  in  excellent  trim 
for  preaching.  His  text  was,  "  Strive  to  enter  in  at  the 
strait  gate,  for  many  I  say  unto  you  shall  seek  to 
enter  in,  and  shall  not  be  able."  When  he  came  to 
that  part  of  the  text  about  not  being  able  to  enter  in, 
he  showed  that  our  entering  in  at  the  gate  depended, 
among  other  things,  upon  the  time  we  sought  to 
enter.  He  said  there  was  a  time  for  entering,  and  if 
we  allowed  that  to  pass,  we  ought  not  to  hope  that 
we  could  afterwards  enter.     Then  he  began  to  illus- 


304         LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

trate.  "  If  you  are  sick,"  said  he,  "  and  the  physi- 
cian prescribes  a  remedy  to  be  taken  at  a  certain 
time,  and  you  fail  to  take  it  until  the  time  is 
past,  you  ought  not  to  complain,  if  it  does  not  cure 
you.  If  you  do  not  sow  in  seed-time,  you  must  not 
expect  to  reap  in  harvest.  Much  less,  if  in  seed- 
time you  sow  your  ground  in  weeds,  ought  you  to 
hope  to  reap  wheat  when  the  harvest-day  comes. 

"  When  I  was  a  boy  I  read  a  story  of  Goodman 
Hodge,  an  unbalanced  and  shiftless  swain.  Good- 
man fallowed  his  fields  and  made  them  ready  for  the 
seed.  When  the  day  for  sowing  came,  he  went  forth 
and  sowed  his  fields  broadcast  with — (here  he  was 
swinging  his  long  arm  around  in  imitation  of  the 
sower) — sowed  his  fields  broadcast — (another  pause, 
and  still  swinging  his  arm) — sowed  his  fields,  I  say, 
broadcast  with — (here  he  took  in  his  arm,  came  to  a 
dead  halt,  drew  his  hand  over  his  face,  and  then 
with  a  downcast  look,  slowly  scratched  his  head). 
Well  really,  brethren,  I  have  forgotten  what  it  was 
— I  know  it  well,  for  it  grows  very  extensively  here 
in  Virginia,  and  has  a  large  bloom,  but  after  all,  it 
does  not  matter;  it  was  a  noxious  weed.  He  sowed 
his  ground  with  the  seed  of  a  noxious  weed.  (This 
seemed  to  right  him  up,  and  he  started  out  anew.) 
When  the  time  for  harvest  came,  Goodman  Hodge 
called  in  his  servants,  put  his  reapers  in  order,  and 
went  forth  expecting  to  reap  a  harvest.  But  when 
he  came  in  sight  of  his  fields,  instead  of  waving  with 
the  ripened  wheat,  they  were  all  abloom  with  thistles 
— ah,  that's  the  vegetable  ;   that 8  the  vegetable  !     He 


IN  THE  PULPIT.  305 

found  his  fields  filled  with  thistles.  '  Whatsoever  a 
man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap."' 

One  would  imagine  that  after  such  a  bewildering 
experience,  he  would  have  been  hopelessly  upset. 
But  it  was  not  so.  The  congregation  exhibited  many 
signs  of  amusement,  and  here  and  there  could  be 
heard  suppressed  laughter.  There  were  several 
things  in  his  favor.  He  was  thoroughly  aroused, 
and  full  of  his  subject,  and  did  not  manifest  the  least 
embarrassment.  His  sermon  had  already  produced 
a  decided  effect  and  his  hearers  were  too  deeply  im- 
pressed to  be  excited  into  great  merriment  by  even 
so  ludicrous  a  blunder.  The  interruption  awakened 
new  attention,  and  in  a  little  while  he  recovered  his 
self-possession  and  fervor,  and  closed  his  sermon  in 
the  midst  of  profound  solemnity  and  even  tender- 
ness on  the  part  of  the  congregation. 

Dr.  C.  Tyree  once  said  that  there  was  more  sense 
in  Dr.  Jeter's  nonsense  than  there  was  in  an  ordinary 
man's  best  sense.  I  have  sometimes  thought  there 
was  more  force  in  his  failures,  than  is  usually  found 
in  the  artificial  and  polished  sermons  of  some  who 
are  never  known  to  fail.  Now  and  then  he  fell — 
fell  far  below  himself — but  he  could  do  that  and  yet 
stop  a  long  way  above  the  zenith  of  men  who  found 
pleasure  in  parading  his  mistakes.  He  had  his 
nadir,  but  it  was  a  proof  of  the  majestic  heights  to 
which  he  sometimes  rose  and  from  which  he  some- 
times fell. 

I  have  felt  compelled,  in  candor,  to  present  thus 
fully  Dr.  Jeter's  infirmities  as  a  preacher.  As  I  have 
not  spared  him  in  this  respect  I  will  seek  to  be 
20 


306  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

equally  careful  and  honest  in  setting  forth  the  chief 
points  of  his  strength  in  the  pulpit.  If  what  I  have 
said,  should  lead  any  to  suppose  that  he  was  not  a 
man  of  might — a  preacher  of  rare  and  surpassing 
power  and  an  Elijah  in  the  family  of  prophets,  then 
I  have  shown  myself  to  be  an  unfaithful  historian. 
He  was  not  the  equal  of  some  of  the  great  preachers 
of  the  world,  but  he  towered  very  far  above  the 
general  average,  and  made  an  impress  upon  his  age 
which  will  never  be  effaced. 

Wherein  was  he  great  ?  This  question  I  will  an- 
swer, so  far  as  I  am  able. 

First  of  all,  his  form  was  greatly  in  his  favor. 
Not  that  a  fine  physique  is  essential  to  an  orator's 
power.  Several  of  the  most  captivating  preachers 
in  the  American  pulpit  of  the  present  day  are  of 
diminutive  form.  I  may  add  to  this  that  the  most 
senatorial  and  imposing  figure  that  I  ever  saw  in  the 
pulpit,  was  the  property  of  a  man  whose  preaching 
was  emptiness  and  bluster.  And  yet  a  noble  pres- 
ence is  not  to  be  despised.  It  is  said  that  in  his 
youth,  Dr.  Jeter  was  gaunt  and  unshapely,  and  had 
great  difficulty  in  deciding  what  to  do  with  his 
notoriously  long  arms.  But  he  grew  away  from  all 
that.  He  became  erect,  symmetrical  and  command- 
ing. In  height  he  was  six  feet,  two  inches,  and  he 
bore  himself,  in  and  out  of  the  pulpit,  with  imperial 
dignity.  His  brow  was  high  and  broad ;  his  face 
fair,  beardless  always  and  to  the  last  unwrinkled ; 
his  eye  was  brilliant  enough  to  light  his  whole  coun- 
tenance with  its  softened  beauty;  his  thin  white 
hair  was  a  -crown  of  glory  and  his  lips  seemed  in- 


IN  THE   PULPIT.  307 

stinct  with  strength,  courage  and  sympathy.  When 
aglow  with  spiritual  animation  his  form  expanded 
into  grandeur  and  his  face  gleamed  with  ineffable 
light. 

He  abounded  in  gesture.  He  learned  in  time  to 
hold  himself  in  the  best  postures  and  to  use  his  arms 
with  extreme  grace  and  force.  In  moments  of  free- 
dom on  the  platform,  he  moved  about  from  point  to 
point,  and  his  kingly  bearing  enhanced  the  power  of 
his  speech.  When  thoroughly  aroused,  he  would  rush 
to  the  very  edge  of  the  platform,  and,  bending  for- 
ward, would  point  with  an  almost  crushing  per- 
sonality, as  if  he  would  probe  the  soul  which  he  was 
trying  to  save.  He  had  one  memorably  fine  gesture. 
When  he  became  excited — and  he  was  capable  of  the 
most  intense  and  contagious  excitement — he  would 
sometimes  stand  on  tiptoe,  and  stretching  upright  his 
right  arm,  he  would  point  his  forefinger,  circling  it  as 
it  went  up,  toward  heaven.  At  such  a  moment  he 
showed  to  great  advantage.  His  appearance  was 
deeply  impressive.  An  honored  brother  who  was 
one  of  the  doctor's  admiring  hearers  said  once,  in 
speaking  of  this  gesture,  that  it  sometimes  seemed  to 
him  when  he  started  that  right  forefinger  on  its 
heavenward  journey,  it  never  paused,  until  it  touched 
the  gateway  of  glory. 

He  was  also  remarkably  solemn  and  interesting  in 
his  manner  of  conducting  the  opening  exercise  of 
worship.  His  simple  appearance  in  the  pulpit  was 
impressive.  There  was  no  prim  and  consequential 
air  about  him,  no  affectation  of  earnestness,  and  not 
one  trace  of  vain-glory.      Sometimes   he  appeared 


308  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

constrained  and  anxious,  but  he  always  wore  the 
look  of  a  man  whose  soul  was  burdened  with  a  great 
business.  When  he  arose,  there  was  a  nameless  at- 
traction, a  spiritual  charm  which  did  much  to  still 
the  people  and  to  prepare  them  for  the  services  of 
the  sanctuary. 

He  never  struck  me  as  a  notably  good  reader,  and 
I  never  heard  him  praised  for  his  reading,  and  yet 
I  think  no  man's  reading  ever  impressed  me  as  his 
did.  He  was  a  devout  believer  in  singing,  and 
though  his  voice  was  never  good,  he  always  sang 
with  an  earnestness  and  quiet  rapture  that  was 
positively  inspiring.  He  excelled  greatly  in  reading 
the  hymns.  I  can  never  forget  the  thrilling  effect 
produced  upon  my  heart,  when,  a  boy  in  Bedford,  I 
heard  him  read  at  Mt.  Hermon  "  All  hail  the  power 
of  Jesus'  name."  It  was  done  wonderfully  well  and 
I  can  fancy,  even  now,  that  I  hear  the  triumphant 
notes  of  his  voice  as  he  came  to  the  closing  line  of 
each  stanza,  "  And  crown  him  Lord  of  all."  Each 
time,  his  emphasis  became  stronger  and  more  ex- 
ultant until  when  he  ended  I  felt  as  if  the  moment 
for  the  coronation  of  the  Son  of  Man  had  come.  He 
took  great  pains  in  selecting  his  hymns,  so  as  to  have 
them  in  harmony  with  his  sermon. 

There  was  also  a  delightful  fascination  in  his 
public  reading  of  the  Scriptures.  He  did  not  select 
the  Scripture  lesson,  at  haphazard  or  simply  read  the 
chapter  in  which  his  text  occurred,  but  made  it  a 
point  to  read  something  that  would  bear  directly 
upon  the  discussion  which  he  had  in  hand.  He 
rarely  interlarded  his    reading  with  words  of  com- 


IN  THE  PULPIT.  309 

merit,  though  now  and,  then,  he  would  light  up  an 
obscure  passage  by  an  explanatory  remark.  His 
peculiar  strength  appeared  in  his  ability  to  read  the 
Word  of  God,  so  as  to  bring  out  its  meaning.  Some- 
times he  would  pause,  and  read  a  striking  passage 
the  second  time,  and  occasionally  he  would  misread 
a  passage  intentionally,  so  as  to  excite  attention  and 
would  then  give  the  correct  reading.  It  was  always 
a  solemn  thing  to  hear  him  read  the  Bible.  One 
could  not  fail  to  see  that  he  felt  that  he  was  hand- 
ling the  Word  of  the  living  God. 

But  most  of  all,  his  public  prayers  were  helpful  to 
worship.  They  were  never  long,  nor  elaborate,  nor 
in  the  least  stately.  They  were  models  of  simplicity, 
directness  and  fervor.  He  was  mighty  in  praise. 
Blessed  with  a  cheerful  and  grateful  spirit,  he  was 
always  peculiarly  happy  in  thanksgiving  and  adora- 
tion. Sometimes  he  seemed  to  be  so  thoroughly 
satisfied  with  what  the  Lord  had  done  for  him,  that 
he  did  not  multiply  petitions.  He  often  rose  to  the 
loftiest  raptures  in  praising  the   Lord. 

And  then  how  humble  he  was  !  It  was  melting  to 
hear,  him  pour  out  his  soul  in  confession  and  his  pleas 
for  mercy  were  most  beseeching.  He  rarely  made  a 
public  prayer  without  praying  for  the  conversion  of 
the  world.  .  His  prayers  were  not  always  uniform. 
He  sometimes  lacked  liberty  and  was  dull,  but  he 
never  broke  down  in  praying  as  he  sometimes  did  in 
preaching.  It  was  not  often,  that  he  did  not  seem  to 
be  importunate  and  prevalent  in  prayer.  His  voice 
would  frequently  quiver  with  emotion,  and  his  face 
get  wet  with  tears.     I  have  heard  him  many  times 


310  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

when  he  plead  as  a  suppliant  before  his  king,  and 
when  he  seemed  to  be  face  to  face  with  God.  Such 
prayers  I  have  never  heard  from  any  other  man. 

In  his  old  age  I  was  his  pastor.  He  always  sat 
just  in  front  of  me  He  was  my  resort  in  the  mo- 
ment of  trouble.  If,  for  any  reason,  I  felt  jDeculiar 
trepidation  about  my  sermon,  I  would  ask  him  to 
pray  for  me.  Even  from  the  human  side,  his  prayers 
were  greatly  helpful.  They  were  pervaded  with  a 
sympathy  which  was  full  of  comfort,  and  they  went 
far  toward  putting  the  people  in  a  listening  mood. 

But,  after  all,  it  was  as  a  preacher  that  he  excelled. 
His  sermon  was  the  product  and  the  instrument  of 
his  strength.  I  distrust  my  ability  to  set  forth 
adequately  Dr.  Jeter's  chief  characteristics  as  a  ser- 
monizer  and  a  preacher.  Some  things  can  be  said 
without  the  least  question  as  to  their  truth. 

He  was  a  remarkable  Bible  student.  Of  all  the  men 
that  I  have  ever  known,  he  had  the  most  compre- 
hensive, varied  and  critical  knowledge  of  the  Bible. 
While  not  a  classical  scholar,  it  is  an  interesting  fact 
that  he  studied  Greek  privately  that  he  might  be 
able  to  examine  Greek  terms  in  the  Lexicons  and 
critical  commentaries.  Some  of  the  most  significant 
conversations  that  I  ever  had  with  him  were  with 
reference  to  the  different  shades  of  meaning  in 
Greek  words  which  seemed  to  be  synonymous.  He 
collected  an  ample  library,  and  that  of  the  best  qual- 
ity for  his  purposes.  He  studied  the  Bible  all  his 
life  and  according  to  the  most  approved  methods. 
He  read  it  regularly  and  often  read  it  through.  He 
read  it  with  the  aid  of  the  best  commentaries,  con- 


IN  THE  PULPIT.  311 

suiting  different  authorities  as  to  the  same  texts. 
He  read  it  comparatively,  using  his  Concordance  and 
studying  each  passage  in  the  light  of  others. 

He  read  it  historically,  acquainting  himself  with 
its  chronology  and  its  geography,  and,  indeed,  in- 
vestigating every  outside  question  which  prom- 
ised to  throw  the  least  light  on  the  inspired  text. 
He  read  it  doctrinally — taking  each  fundamental 
doctrine  and  examining  it,  under  all,  converging 
scriptural  lights.  He  committed  great  portions  of 
it  to  memory,  and  it  is  an  odd  fact  that  while  his 
memory  played  all  manner  of  pranks  upon  him,  it 
rarely  failed  him  in  his  attempts  to  quote  Scripture. 

His  acquaintance  with  the  Bible  was  remarkable. 
While  thoroughly  reverential  in  his  spirit,  he  was  a 
fearless  student.  He  knew  the  passages  that  were 
of  doubtful  authority,  and  brought  them  to  the  test 
of  the  highest  scholarship  he  could  consult,  and  had 
well-matured  opinions  as  to  their  genuineness. 

He  was  not  a  voracious  reader  of  other  books. 
He  rarely  read  anything  except  on  the  line  of  his 
studies.  Above  all  theological  writings  he  valued 
those  of  Andrew  Fuller.  " Father  Harris"  called  him 
into  the  ministry ;  Andrew  Fuller  was  his  teacher  in 
theology.  He  told  me  that  his  doctrinal  views  took 
their  shape  more  from  Fuller's  writings  than  from 
any  other  man's.  He  read  history  to  help  him  in 
illustrations,  but  he  never  seemed  to  be  at  home  on 
any  illustrations,  except  such  as  he  took  from  the 
Bible.  He  tried  his  hand  on  reading  poetry,  but  his 
memory  usually  behaved  disgracefully  when  he  un- 
dertook to  use  it  in  the  pulpit. 


312  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

When  we  look  at  him  as  a  preacher,  we  must  un- 
derstand the  source  from  which  he  drew  his  material. 
That  was  the  Bible.  It  was  his  magazine.  He  had 
its  resources  at  his  command,  and  he  could  use  them 
with  great  facility. 

I  suppose  that  critics  would  have  pronounced  him 
a  textual  preacher.  He  always  took  a  text,  and 
usually  it  was  short  and  he  confined  himself  to  its 
discussion.  And  yet  not  in  any  narrow  way.  He 
never  took  an  isolated  point  of  Scripture,  as  a  mere 
peg  to  hang  a  sermon  on.  It  was  his  rule  to  present 
his  text  in  its  scriptural  setting,  always  illustrating 
it  with  every  ray  of  light  which  could  be  converged 
upon  it,  from  neighboring  passages.  In  the  most  ac- 
curate sense,  I  think,  he  was  an  expository  preacher. 
He  literally  pulled  his  text  to  pieces,  exposing  each 
fragment  to  his  hearers,  explaining  what  the  parts 
meant  separately,  and  what  they  meant  when  put 
together,  and  what  its  meaning  had  to  do  with  men. 

He  had  great  facility  in  the  production  of  sermon 
outlines.  He  said,  before  he  was  fifty  years  of  age, 
that  he  had  twelve  hundred  sermons.  Many  of 
them  were  written  in  full,  but  the  bulk  of  them  were 
in  notes.  These  notes  were  put  in  small  blank 
books,  which  could  be  easily  carried  in  his  breast- 
pocket. Of  these  he  had  a  formidable  pile,  and  at 
his  death  they  were  bequeathed,  with  his  library,  to 
Richmond  College.  They  were  written  with  such 
accuracy  and  completeness,  that  they  were  ready  for 
the  publisher  without  revision  or  correction.  Soon 
after  the  war,  he  published  in  the  Religious  Herald 
many  of  these  sermon  outlines,  and  they  were  greatly 


IN  THE  PULPIT.  313 

admired,  if  not,  indeed,  appropriated,  on  account  of 
their  homiletical  excellences. 

His  power  of  analyzing  a  text  was  exceptional. 
He  generally  apprehended  its  meaning,  with  great 
clearness  and  got  it  all  out.  When  he  finished 
with  a  text,  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  said.  It 
was  embarrassing  to  a  preacher  to  hear  or  read  one 
of  his  sermons.  He  felt  that  he  would  have  to  avoid 
the  text  ever  afterwards,  or  do  something  else,  and 
right  often  he  did  something  else. 

It  often  occurs  that  men  who  are  skillful  in  map- 
ping out  sermons  are  sloven  and  indolent  as  to  their 
finish.  Into  this  snare,  Dr.  Jeter  never  fell.  He  said 
that  he  always  thought  his  sermons  through  so 
minutely  that  he  knew  every  word  that  he  intended 
to  utter,  before  he  went  into  the  pulpit.  Of  course, 
after  he  commenced  and  his  soul  took  fire,  he  often 
leaped  the  track  of  his  preparation  and  made  excur- 
sions of  which  he  had  not  thought  in  advance,  and 
when  that  vicious  memory  of  his  fell  into  the  sulks, 
his  patient  preparation  proved  of  little  worth. 

I  have  spoken  of  his  illustrations.  I  do  not  think 
that  he  had  any  extraordinary  gift  for  illustrations. 
He  believed  in  them  and  often  used  them  to  advan- 
tage. His  imagination  was  almost  brilliant,  but  it 
was  timid  and  his  voice  was  not  well  suited  for  pic- 
torial preaching.  The  outlines  of  his  pictures  were 
excellent,  but  they  often  lacked  color.  He  could 
draw,  but  he  could  not  paint.  There  was,  however, 
a  distinctness  in  the  draughts  of  his  pictures  which 
made  an  indelible  impression.  One  thing  often  struck 
me,  and  that  was  the  exceeding  purity  of  his  imagi- 


314  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

nation.  It  may  be  truly  said  of  him  that  he  had  a 
deeply  pious  and  holy  imagination.  It  never  pro- 
duced anything  that  had  the  least  taint  upon  it.  It 
was  thoroughly  loyal  to  the  truth,  and  when  dealing 
with  Scripture  incidents,  it  always  kept  within  the 
line.  He  ought  to  have  cultivated  his  imagination 
more  thoroughly ;  it  would  have  enhanced  his  pop- 
ular power.  A  few  times  I  saw  him  when  his 
imagination  broke  from  its  fears  and  became  in- 
tensely excited.  It  threw  a  glow  over  his  discourses 
which  no  words  can  describe  and  which  inflamed  his 
audience  into  the  wildest  passion. 

He  was  a  great  teacher.  One  could  not  hear  him 
without  learning  something  about  the  Bible.  Those 
who  enjoyed  his  constant  ministrations  grew  rapidly 
in  knowledge.  He  enkindled  men's  love  of  the  truth 
and  turned  them  into  students.  Persons  were  accus- 
tomed to  say  that  his  sermons  "  staid  with  them." 
Some  could  preach  more  charmingly  than  he,  but 
what  he  said,  was  not  forgotten. 

There  was  great  variety  in  his  preaching.  He 
roamed  the  entire  domain  of  gospel  truth,  and 
one  could  not  sit  very  long  under  his  ministry 
without  being  escorted  over  the  whole  range  of 
theology. 

It  ought  to  be  added  that  his  preaching  was  rich 
in  spiritual  consolation.  He  knew  well  how  to  ap- 
ply the  balm  of  the  gospel  to  wounded  hearts.  He 
preached  best  when  dealing  with  eternal  things. 
His  sermons  on  immortality,  the  resurrection,  the 
heavenly  glory,  the  happiness  of  the  redeemed  and 
other  kindred  topics  brought  out  his  highest  strength 


IN  THE  PULPIT.  315 

as  a  preacher  and  fell  like  divine  benedictions  upon 
the  people. 

I  agree  with  Bro.  A.  H.  Sands  that  Dr.  Jeter  was 
pre-eminent  in  hortatory  preaching.  He  loved  to 
preach  to  the  unconverted  and  rarely  preached  a 
sermon  without  an  appeal  to  them.  But  his  ex- 
hortations made  after  others  had  preached,  or  in 
revival  meetings,  were  simply  irresistible. 

In  1860  he  held  a  meeting  in  Liberty,  Va.  One 
night,  after  another  brother  had  preached,  without 
any  marked  effect  upon  the  congregation,  Dr.  Jeter 
arose  and  began  to  speak.  In  a  few  moments  his 
whole  nature  seemed  to  be  pervaded  by  the  power 
of  God.  His  face  was  flushed  with  tender  and  pas- 
sionate warmth,  and  his  voice  grew  strangely  mellow 
and  pathetic.  He  seemed  to  wrap  the  great  crowd 
in  a  resistless  spell  and  to  hold  them  by  the  very 
strings  of  their  hearts.  I  never  heard  such  a  won- 
derful burst  of  eloquence  and  never  saw  an  audi- 
ence so  completely  overcome.  Christians  cried  aloud 
and  sinners  fell  down ,  and  begged  for  mercy.  It  was 
a  signal  demonstration  of  his  power  when  fully 
equipped  and  at  his  best. 

Judged  by  their  immediate  effects,  the  sermons  of 
Dr.  Jeter,  on  some  occasions,  would  be  entitled  to 
the  highest  rank.  They  were  not  of  the  popular  or 
sensational  type,  but  they  were  strong  in  thought, 
convincing  in  argument,  stirring  in  their  appeals  and 
subduing  in  their  pathos.  The  emotions  awakened 
by  his  more  electric  sermons  were  healthy  and  per- 
manent. He  did  not  deal  exclusively  or  chiefly 
with  the  hearts  of  men.     He  always  began  quietly, 


316  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

and  the  body  of  his  discourses  consisted  in  instruc- 
tion and  argument.  He  sought  first  to  convince  the 
understanding  and  stir  the  heart  with  the  probe 
of  his  reason.  If  he  could  win  attention  in  the 
outset,  lodge  his  message  in  the  minds  of  his  hear- 
ers and  bring  them  to  accept  his  conclusions,  he 
never  had  much  difficulty  in  storming  their  hearts. 
It  often  happened  that  sermons  which  seemed  slow 
and  dull  in  their  earlier  stages,  would  close  with  tre- 
mendous power.  He  had  some  sermons  which  he 
preached  in  protracted  meetings,  and  when  in  a  happy 
humor  he  delivered  them  with  surpassing  effect.  His 
sermon  on  "  Paul's  Prayer  for  Onesiphorus  "  was,  per- 
haps, his  greatest. 

He  was  a  thorough  Baptist,  and,  while  he  did  not 
give  the  peculiar  doctrines  of  his  denomination  any 
offensive  prominence,  he  often  preached  them. 

This  he  did  generally,  in  an  incidental  way,  when 
his  text  demanded  it,  but  sometimes  he  would  de- 
liver serial  sermons  in  which  he  would  discuss  Bap- 
tist peculiarities  in  full.  Always  careful  in  his 
scriptural  quotations,  he  was  critically  so,  when 
presenting  his  own  views  or  combating  the  tenets  of 
others.  He  was  a  master  in  pulpit  courtesy,  and 
had  the  tact  to  preach  "  doctrinal  sermons  "  without 
wounding  those  who  differed  from  him.  He  never 
had  a  public  discussion  with  any  minister  of  another 
denomination.  This  was  not  for  lack  of  opportunity 
or  courage,  but  from  a  conviction  that  such  debates 
were  rarely  productive  of  good. 

He  was  often  called  to  preach  or  make  addresses 
at     ordinations,     mass-meetings     and     conventions. 


IN  THE   PULPIT.  317 

These  he  prepared  himself  with  scrupulous  care  and 
almost  invariably  undertook  to  present  the  scrip- 
tural aspect  of  the  topic  which  he  was  invited  to 
discuss.  He  was  great  on  funeral  sermons,  which, 
in  his  earlier  life,  were  held  in  high  esteem.  He  was 
sent  for,  far  and  wide,  to  deliver  memorial  addresses, 
in  honor  of  distinguished  ministers.  Many  of  these 
were  published.  I  had  hoped  to  introduce  his  sermon 
preached  on  the  occasion  of  the  death  of  Rev.  Andrew 
Broaddus,  of  Caroline  County.  It  was  not  one  of 
his  greatest  efforts,  but  it  was  delivered  while  he 
was  comparatively  a  young  man,  and  is  of  real  merit. 
It  would  serve  as  a  fair  sample  of  his  sermons  at  that 
time,  and  its  publication  would  go  a  little  way,  at 
least,  in  preserving  the  remembrance  of  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  orators  of  the  Virginia  pulpit. 

But  I  regret  that  the  plan  of  this  volume  neces- 
sarily forbids  the  publication  of  any  of  his  sermons. 
It  was  the  wish  of  his  life,  earnestly  repeated  at  his 
death,  that  some  of  his  works,  at  least,  might  be  re- 
published. This,  for  many  reasons,  seems  most 
desirable,  and  will  be  done  hereafter,  provided  the 
present  sketch  of  his  life  shall  seem  to  create  a  de- 
mand for  it. 

His  voice  is  now  hushed  and  his  hands  are  clasped 
over  his  silent  heart,  but  his  sermons  still  abide. 
They  may  never  appear  in  book-form,  but  they  are 
republished  in  the  lives  of  those  who  were  saved  by 
his  instrumentality,  or  strengthened  for  their  con- 
flicts by  his  ministrations.  He  is  dead,  but  the  truth 
which  he  uttered  shall  endure  forever. 


CHAPTER  XITI. 

PASTORAL  CHARACTER. 

IT  has  become  quite  common  to  distinguish  sharply 
between  the  preacher  and  the  pastor.  We  often 
hear  it  said  of  a  man,  that  he  is  an  admirable 
preacher,  but  weak  as  a  pastor,  or  that  he  is  a  cajDital 
pastor  but  not  much  of  a  preacher,  as  if  the  two  of- 
fices were  entirely  distinct.  They  cannot  really  be 
separated.  Preaching  is  only  one  phase  of  pastoral 
work.  One  may  be  a  preacher,  without  being  a  pas- 
tor, but  he  cannot  be  of  much  value  in  the  pastoral 
office,  except  in  a  subordinate  way,  unless  he  is  a 
strong  and  effective  preacher.  In  the  preceding 
chapter,  I  have  discussed  Dr.  Jeter's  characteristics 
as  a  preacher,  and  nothing  remains  to  be  said  on 
that  subject,  except  what  will  bear  upon  the  pastoral 
quality  of  his  ministrations. 

I  need  not  say  that  the  multiform  character  of 
pastoral  service  has  led  to  a  diversity  of  sentiment, 
as  to  what  constitutes  the  body  of  a  pastor's  duty. 
We  see,  on  every,  side,  a  disposition  to  exalt  one 
aspect  of  his  duty  at  the  expense  of  others.  This 
is  done  alike  by  the  preachers  and  the  people. 

Some    stake   everything   on    the    sermon.     They 
claim  that  the  pulpit  is  the  preacher's  throne,  from' 
which    he   should   never  descend.     If  he  preaches 
318 


PASTORAL   CHARACTER.  319 

profound  and  quickening  sermons,  he  has  done  his 
full  duty.  Time  given  to  other  things  is  time  lost. 
Of  this  class  there  are  some  who  magnify  the  popular 
feature  of  the  sermon.  They  gauge  a  preacher's 
success  by  his  ability  to  attract  and  entertain.  If 
his  sermons  are  glowing  and  brilliant,  and  his  pews 
packed  with  people,  he  is  a  satisfactory  pastor. 
There  are  others  who  estimate  a  pastor  by  his  social 
qualities.  They  care  little  for  the  sermon,  and 
much  for  the  visit.  With  them  a  pastor's  worth  is 
measured  by  his  manners.  If  he  has  grace  in  his 
bow,  warmth  in  his  grasp,  sympathy  in  his  voice 
and  is  much  abroad  among  his  people,  he  is  esteemed 
the  model  pastor.  I  ought  to  add  that  others  yet 
clamor  for  the  practical  element  in  their  pastor.  He 
must  be  apt  at  figures,  skilled  in  the  matter  of  or- 
ganizing, sharp  in  affairs  of  finance  and  a  sort  of 
chief  in  all  the  aggressive  movements  of  the  church. 

Dr.  Jeter  was  not  a  model  pastor.  In  some  re- 
spects he  was  singularly  weak — a  fact  which  no  one 
realized  or  deplored  so  deeply  as  he  did.  One  thing, 
however,  can  be  truthfully  said  in  his  favor,  and 
when  that  is  said,  we  have  gone  far  in  his  praise. 

He  believed  in  the  various  aspects  of  pastoral 
work,  and  sought  to  be  faithful  in  all.  He  did  not 
run  on  one  line  to  the  neglect  of  others,  though  he 
did  not  enjoy  equally  the  different  departments  of 
his  office.  So  far  as  he  could,  he  held  the  several 
phases  of  his  work  in  their  due  proportions.  That 
he  was,  in  the  same  measure,  effective  at  every  point 
is  not  claimed.  Indeed,  it  would  be  hard  to  find  a 
minister  so  versatile,  fertile  and  evenly  balanced  that 


320  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

he  could  take  a  large  city  church,  and  discharge  all 
of  the  arduous  and  conflicting  duties  of  his  position, 
with  satisfaction  to  himself  or  to  others.  Such 
churches  often  attempt  and  require  impossible 
things.  They  lay  upon  one  man  the  duties  which 
would  fill  the  hearts  and  hands  of  a  half-dozen. 
They  point  to  Spurgeon,  with  his  great  Tabernacle, 
his  thousands  of  members,  his  college  and  his  or- 
phanage, and  seem  to  think  it  utterly  inexplicable 
that  other  preachers  cannot  manage  so  wisely  as 
does  the  celebrated  London  preacher. 

They  forget,  if  they  ever  knew,  that  Spurgeon  has 
a  large  corps  of  skilled  assistants,  and  has  little  to 
do  with  the  details  and  drudgeries  of  his  position. 
The  Baptists  will  have  better  city  churches  when 
their  pastoral  forces  are  multiplied.  If  Dr.  Jeter  did 
not  do  all  that  pertained  to  his  office,  it  can,  at  least, 
be  said  that  he  was  sensitively  conscientious  as  to 
the  varied  requirements  which  were  upon  him, 
and  did  the  best  that  he  could  on  every  line. 

So  far  as  I  have  -learned,  his  relations  with  his 
churches  were  uniformly  agreeable.  He  never  knew 
the  bitterness  of  a  serious  disturbance,  and  lived 
largely  on  the  sunny  side  of  ministerial  life.  This 
may  have  been  owing,  in  part,  to  the  noble  charac- 
ter of  his  churches,  and  it  may  have  been  due,  in 
part,  to  his  own  discretion  and  fidelity.  But  largely, 
I  think,  the  happiness  of  his  lot  may  be  traced  to 
the  sound  scriptural  views  of  the  pastoral  office 
which  he  held.  He  believed  in  its  divine  authority, 
and  had  a  lofty  conception  of  its  dignity,  responsi- 
bility and  usefulness.     He  was  also  a  simple-hearted 


PASTORAL  CHARACTER.  321 

believer  in  the  independence  of  the  churches  and  in 
their  right  to  select  their  own  guides  and  teachers. 
These  convictions,  coupled  with  his  life-long  persua- 
sion that  he  was  called  of  God  to  the  ministry,  and 
that  the  pastor  was  made  for  the  church  and  not  the 
church  for  the  pastor,  made  him  a  good  pastor. 
While  always  allowed  broad  liberty  as  to  the  meth- 
ods of  his  service,  he  esteemed  himself  the  servant  of 
his  church.  The  tie  which  bound  him  to  his  people 
he  regarded  as  peculiarly  sacred,  and  never  wan- 
tonly strained  it. 

Now  and  then,  in  his  extended  career,  he  was  re- 
minded how  intensely  independent  a  Baptist  Church 
can  be  with  its  pastor  when  the  humor  strikes  it. 
During  his  pastorate  at  the  First  Church,  he  had  an 
experience  which  must  have  tested  his  amiability. 
At  a  certain  church-meeting,  he  announced  modestly 
to  his  brethren,  that  it  was  the  wish  of  his  heart  to 
visit  his  former  charge  in  the  Northern  Neck,  and 
requested  a  leave  of  absence  for  that  purpose.  His 
plea  was  strengthened  by  the  fact  that  his  wife  was 
from  that  section  and  desired,  to  visit  her  kindred. 
As  he  made  a  formal  request  for  permission  to  go, 
and  as  so  many  circumstances  seemed  to  conspire  in 
his  favor,  he  was  confident  that  the  church  would 
yield  a  prompt  and  cheerful  consent. 

But  the  tide  did  not  set  that  way.  An  honored 
brother  minister,  then  a  member  of  that  church,  was 
present,  and,  while  an  ardent  friend  of  Dr.  Jeter, 
had  a  conscience  that  was  remorselessly  strict  in  its 
notions  of  a  pastor's  duty.  He  arose,  and  in  a  crisp 
and  sharply  punctuated  style,  said  :  "  Brethren,  we 
21 


322  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

all  love  Brother  Jeter, — love  him  very  much  and 
like  to  gratify  him ;  but  I  do  not  think  we  ought  to 
let  him  go  at  this  time.  The  church  needs  his  at- 
tention, and  will  suffer  by  his  absence.  I  move  that 
we  refuse  to  grant  his  request." 

This  cold  and  matter-of-fact  motion  swept  out 
every  kindly  sentiment  in  favor  of  his  going  and 
put  a  chill  upon  the  meeting.  As  no  one  ventured 
to  champion  the  pastor's  cause,  the  motion  was 
finally  submitted  and  carried. 

It  was  now  Dr.  Jeter's  time  to  speak.  He  arose 
slowly,  and,  with  a  grim,  half-playful  smile,  said : 
"Very  well,  brethren;  I  very  much  desired  to  visit 
my  friends  in  the  Northern  Neck.  I  spent  nine 
happy  years  among  them,  and  am  ardently  devoted 
to  them.  I  did  think  you  would  let  me  go;  but  as 
your  verdict  is  against  me,  I  submit  without  a  mur- 
mur. I  will  not  only  stay,  but  I  will  try  to  be 
more  faithful  than  ever." 

There  was  no  timorous  or  cringing  tone  in  his 
submissiveness  to  the  authority  of  his  church.  That 
authority  he  honestly  recognized,  and  had  no  wish 
to  evade.  It  was  not  possible  for  a  man  of  his  char- 
acter to  play  the  humble  role  as  a  device  for  keeping 
his  people  in  a  good  humor.  Sacrifices  of  personal 
comfort  for  the  good  of  the  church,  he  was  always 
ready  to  make.  His  domestic  and  social  engage- 
ments he  held  subordinate  to  the  claims  of  his 
people.  He  would  even  concede  much  to  their  in- 
firmities and  caprices.  He  fought  no  futile  battles 
with  them,  and  was  ever  ready  to  surrender,  on  de- 


PASTORAL  CHARACTER.  323 

mand,  when  there  was  nothing  to  be  given  up,  except 
his  own  preferences. 

But  I  need  not  tell  those  who  knew  him  that  he 
had  no  unmanly  or  servile  fear  of  his  churches.  He 
did  not  fear  anybody.  If  any  important  question  of 
policy  or  doctrine  was  involved,  it  was  easy  to  find 
where  he  stood.  His  views  were  public  property. 
He  would  antagonize  the  church  on  any  great  issue, 
if  he  believed  that  an  important  principle  was  in- 
volved. While  always  outspoken,  he  was  usually 
deliberate  and  amiable  in  debate.  But  he  had  an 
imperial  will  and  a  fiery,  impetuous  nature,  and 
when  he  fought,  he  put  out  his  strength.  His  for- 
bearance, especially  in  his  early  life,  had  its  limits. 
He  could  get  mad,  and  sometimes  did. 

There  was  something  pleasing  in  the  moral  tone 
of  his  anger.  He  was  rarely  excited  without  a 
strong  provocation;  but  if  he  felt  aggrieved,  he  did 
not  hide  it.  He  came  out  with  it  on  the  spot.  Dr. 
Witt  told  me,  that  in  one  of  Dr.  Jeter's  church  meet- 
ings, there  sprang  up,  suddenly,  a  sharp  and  wrathful 
debate.  It  ran  on  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  grew  in 
acrimony  as  it  advanced.  Dr.  Jeter  felt  constrained 
to  take  part  in  the  discussion,  and  found  himself 
confronted  by  one  of  his  deacons,  not  eminent  for  his 
courtesy,  who  treated  him  with  marked  severity. 
Dr.  Jeter  replied  with  dignity,  and  by  his  arguments 
ruthlessly  battered  down  the  deacon's  strongholds. 
This  infuriated  the  brother,  and  he  came  back  upon 
the  Doctor  in  a  manner  that  exasperated  him  almost 
beyond  control.  He  sprang  to  his  feet,  flushed  and 
indignant  and  eager  to  reply. 


324  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Just  then,  a  gentle  and  pacific  old  brother  took 
the  floor,  and,  tearfully  bewailing  the  turn  that  mat- 
ters had  taken,  proposed  that  some  brother  should 
lead  in  prayer.  It  may  have  been  a  heaven-born 
proposition;  it  was  at  least  one  which  nobody  ven- 
tured to  oppose.  It  did  not,  however,  chime  in 
with  the  feeling  which  at  that  moment  was  upper- 
most in  the  breast  of  the  excited  pastor.  He  wished 
to  talk.  Against  the  call  to  prayer  he  said  nothing; 
but  his  face  was  a  volume  of  argument  against  it. 
Everybody  knelt  except  him,  and  then  he  reluc- 
tantly bent  his  hinges,  as  if  it  was  a  torture  to  him. 
As  he  came  down,  he  touched  a  brother  at  his  side, 
and  said  in  an  audible  whisper :  "  I  don't  feel  like 
praying."  How  like  him  that  was  !  He  might  be 
mad;  but  he  could  not  be  insincere. 

In  his  conception  of  the  pastoral  office  there  was 
no  room  for  servility.  He  was  no  foot-ball  to  be 
kicked  about  by  the  whims  and  cruelties  of  coarse 
and  ill-bred  people.  He  always  bore  himself  with 
courtly,  dignity  and  gentle  courtesy  toward  others, 
and  he  exacted  the  same,  at  their  hands.  He  had 
his  share  of  crotchety  and  ill-tempered  men,  and 
hysterical  and  captious  women  in  his  churches. 
They  sometimes  gave  him  serious  annoyance.  But 
he  well  understood  how  to  let  such  people  alone. 
Sometimes  he  would  squelch  them  remorselessly; 
but  ordinarily  he  left  them  to  their  unreasonable- 
ness and  waited  for  better  times. 

He  was  always  forward  and  courageous  in  advo- 
cating measures  that  promised  good  to  the  church. 
If  he  encountered  opposition,  he  met  it  in  a  frank 


PASTORAL  CHARACTER.  325 

and  open  manner;  but  he  did  not  yield  to  it.  It 
seemed  to  be  a  part  of  his  nature  to  contend  ear- 
nestly for  what  he  believed,  regardless  of  conse- 
quences. If  he  believed  that  a  given  measure  would 
promote  the  efficiency  of  the  church,  he  would  say 
so,  though  he  might  not  have  a  single  sympathizer. 
Not  that  he  was  headstrong  or  obstinate  enough  to 
undertake  to  force  upon  his  people  things,  for  which 
they  were  not  ready  and  which  would  disturb  their 
peace.  But  he  was  essentially  broad  in  his  views 
and  always  eager  for  progress.  He  went  in  the 
lead  of  his  people,  and  at  times  was  far  to  the  front. 
When  new  enterprises  were  suggested  to  him,  that 
seemed  feasible  and  necessary,  he  would  advocate 
them.  If  his  church  would  not  adopt  them,  he  took 
it  in  good  part  and  bided  his  time.  By  degrees  he 
would  press  the  agitation,  until  at  length  his  breth- 
ren came  around  to  his  views.  In  this  way  he  se- 
cured the  adoption  of  plans  and  methods  which,  at 
the  first  blush,  his  people  were  loth  to  accept. 

He  was  a  master  in  this  line  of  pastoral  work. 
Always  generous  and  public-spirited  in  his  motives, 
and  manifestly  exempt  from  partisan  rancor,  he 
rarely  alienated  his  people,  by  advocating  what  they 
would  not  adopt.  They  might  question  his  judg- 
ment, but  they  could  never  doubt  his  honesty  nor 
fail  to  respect  his  purity.  He  never  showed  to  a 
better  advantage  than  when  in  a  contest,  unless  it 
was,  when  the  contest  was  ended.  He  bore  defeat 
with  extraordinary  cheerfulness.  Not  that  he  was 
indifferent  to  success.  He  loved  to  have  his  own 
way  remarkably  well,  yet  he  never  exhibited  much 


326  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

chagrin  when  vanquished.  He  presented  his  case, 
made  his  argument,  pressed  it  with  ardent  and  dis- 
interested valor,  and  if  his  people  could  not  see  the 
matter  as  he  did,  he  bowed  gracefully  to  the  inevit- 
able. 

It  was  not  often  that  his  measures  went  to  wreck. 
He  usually  carried  his  point,  and  the  modesty  with 
which  he  usually  behaved,  in  the  moment  of  victory 
was  beautiful  indeed.  He  would,  now  and  then,  per- 
haps unwisely,  indulge  a  quiet  strain  of  exultation  at 
the  expense  of  a  stubborn  opponent.  He  was  once 
engaged  in  a  debate  with  some  of  his  brethren.  This 
time  he  clearly  saw  that  the  popular  current  was  in 
his  favor,  as  was  evinced  by  one  or  two  preliminary 
votes.  A  brother  on  the  other  side,  seeing  inevitable 
defeat  before  him,  grew  dismally  prophetic.  "Ah, 
brethren,"  said  he,  "  you  may  carry  this  thing  now — 
you  may  carry  it  now — but  think  not,  I  beg  you, 
that  the  question  will  be  settled.  It  will  come  back 
again  and  will  not  down  at  your  bidding."  There 
was  something  so  ludicrously  portentous  in  the  bro- 
ther's manner,  that  it  amused  Dr.  Jeter,  and  spring- 
ing up,  he  said,  "  Oh,  think  not  so,  brother !  We  pro- 
pose to  thrash  you  so  handsomely  this  time  that  you 
will  never  have  the  hardihood  to  bring  it  back  again." 
The  playful  hit  provoked  great  laughter,  and  sure 
enough  the  brother  never  brought  it  back  again. 

Dr.  Jeter  could  hardly  be  called  a  popular  pastor. 
In  the  pulpit  he  was  strong  rather  than  pleasing  and 
too  richly  instructive  to  be  generally  entertaining. 
He  was  so  analytical,  discriminating  and  critical  that 
it  was  not  easy  to  follow  him.     Folks  that  did  not 


PASTORAL  CHARACTER.  327 

have  the  capacity  to  walk  a  straight  line  of  reason- 
ing to  a  distant  conclusion,  were  apt  to  break  down 
and  miss  the  point  of  his  sermon.  To  dull  people 
he  was  a  dull  preacher. 

Not  that  plain  people  could  not  appreciate  him. 
Many  of  his  best  hearers  were  simple,  and  even  illit- 
erate, but  they  had  brains  in  their  heads  and  a  de- 
sire for  the  truth  in  their  hearts.  To  them  his  ser- 
mons were  full  of  light. 

I  ought  also  to  say,  that  the  spiritual  element  in 
his  sermons  was  predominant.  He  preached  the 
gospel  and  nothing  else.  His  manner  lacked  those 
taking  points  which  compel  attention,  and  there  was 
not  sufficient  vividness  in  his  illustrations  to  keep 
the  popular  fancy  aglow.  Those  who  did  not  have 
a  spiritual  relish  could  not  enjoy  his  sermons.  Some 
intelligent  people  habitually  slept  under  his  preach- 
ing, but  that  was  not  the  fault  of  his  preaching. 

He  did  not  attract  great  congregations.  Indeed, 
he  sometimes  suffered  in  the  estimation  of  his  friends 
by  reason  of  the  smallness  of  his  audiences'.  Empty 
benches,  on  Sunday  nights  at  least,  were  no  unusual 
spectacles  to  him.  It  happened,  more  than  once, 
that  some  flaring  sky-rocket  of  a  preacher  in  a  neigh- 
boring pulpit,  would  start  a  sensation,  which  for  a 
time  would  draw  away  the  lighter  portions  of  Jeter's 
congregation.  This  did  not  seem  to  disconcert  him 
in  the  least.  His  intelligent  and  devout  people  al- 
ways stood  by  him.  He  was  also  much  sought  after 
by  strangers.  Distinguished  visitors  to  the  city,  par- 
ticularly ministers,  generally  made  it  a  point  to  hear 
him. 


328  LIFE  0F  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

As  a  pastor  he  was  notably  candid.  He  resorted 
to  no  roundabout  expedients.  He  worked  in  an  hon- 
est, old-fashioned  way.  He  was  no  sleek  and  oily 
Jesuit,  trading  in  craft  and  flattery,  to  help  his  fame. 
He  was  none  of  your  bustling,  noisy  pastors,  whip- 
ping wildly  around  as  if  ever  on  a  race,  bobbing  in 
and  out  of  every  house,  affecting  familiarity  with  all 
sorts  of  people,  fond  of  tainted  jests,  recounting  vast 
achievements,  parading  catalogues  of  visits  made  and 
charities  dispensed,  feeding  and  trying  to  feed  others 
on  sensation  and  excitement.  Not  such  was  he.  A 
calm,  steady,  conscientious  man,  watching  as  one  who 
must  give  account,  he  toiled  along  day  by  day  in  his 
Master's  vineyard. 

It  could  not  be  said  that  he  was  a  great  visitor. 
I  believe  it  was  one  of  his  rules  as  a  pastor  to  make 
an  annual  call  upon  every  member  of  his  church,  but 
I  doubt  not,  that  in  the  long  run  he  often  fell  short 
in  this  matter.  He  would  not  spend  his  time  in  vis- 
iting merely  to  help  his  reputation,  or  to  keep  his 
people  in  a  good  humor.  If  he  went,  it  was  for  a 
purpose.  His  visits  were  often  largely  social,  de- 
signed to  cultivate  pleasant  acquaintanceship  with 
the  members  of  his  charge.  He  was  very  careful  in 
his  attentions  to  the  sick,  and  on  such  occasions  his 
company  was  inexpressibly  delightful.  While  not 
demonstrative,  he  was  so  sincerely  kind  and  so  fer- 
vent in  his  sympathies  that  he  gave  great  comfort  to 
the  afflicted.  His  prayers  beside  the  sick-bed  were 
peculiarly  unctuous,  beseeching  and  prevalent. 
Some  are  living  to-day  who  were  recovered  from 
their  sicknesses  in  answer  to  his  prayers.     There  was 


PASTORAL  CHARACTER.  329 

in  hiui  a  quaint  humor  and  a  rippling,  contagious 
sort  of  merriment  which  made  him  a  welcome  com- 
panion in  the  sick-chamber. 

Not  long  before  he  died,  he  called  to  see  a  gentle- 
man who  was  ill.  The  physician  had  given  an  order 
that  no  visitors  were  to  be  admitted,  and  of  course 
he  was  turned  away.  At  the  next  call  of  the  phy- 
sician, he  learned  that  Dr.  Jeter  had  been  to  see  his 
patient,  but  was  denied  entrance.  "  Oh,"  said  the  phy- 
sician, "  I  am  sorry  that  you  did  not  let  him  in. 
His  presence  could  never  hurt  anybody  :  so  far  from 
it,  I  feel  that  he  can  do  a  great  deal  more  for  the  sick 
man  than  I  can."  A  beautiful  compliment  to  the 
dear  old  man  of  God  and  true  as  well.  He  called 
again  upon  the  sick  man,  at  the  very  crisis  of  his 
disease,  and  was  admitted.  He  talked  cheerfully 
with  the  sufferer  and  then  knelt  down  and  prayed 
for  him.     From  that  hour,  the  man  began  to  recover. 

It  need  not  be  said  that  Dr.  Jeter  never  satisfied 
the  popular  clamor  for  pastoral  visiting.  No  man 
can  ever  do  that,  unless  he  makes  his  visits  so  in- 
tensely spiritual,  that  they  become  distasteful  to  those 
who  are  usually  so  unreasonable  in  demanding  them. 

He  had  one  grievous  infirmity  which  stood  in  the 
way  of  his  usefulness  as  a  pastor.  He  could  not  re- 
member people — either  their  names  or  their  faces. 
This  gave  him  trouble  everywhere,  but  most  of  all 
as  a  pastor.  He  would  pass  his  church  members,  and 
even  his  best  friends,  on  the  street  without  speaking 
to  them.  He  not  only  did  not  recognize  them,  but 
he  did  not  look  at  them.  This  did  not  of  course 
arise  from  a  haughty  pride,  as  some  foolishly  imag- 


330  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

ined.  but  because  he  was  so  fully  entertained  with 
his  own  thoughts.  It  sometimes  gave  great  offence 
to  the  more  sensitive  members  of  his  charge.  A 
somewhat  familiar  incident  will  fit  at  this  point. 

He  had,  at  one  of  his  prayer-meetings,  said  publicly  that  it 
was  perhaps  possible  often  to  give  offense  when  none  was  in. 
tended,  and  he  warned  the  brethren  who  were  present  not  to 
harbor   resentment   against   a   fellow-member    for   any   fancied 
wrong,  but  to  go  and  speak  to  the  offeudiug  brother  and  have 
an  explanation  at  once,  and  not  permit  the  matter  to  grow.     As 
for  himself,  he  said:  "If  any  brother  has  aught  against  me,  I 
wish  he  would  now  and  here  tell  me  of  it,  that  I  may  make 
proper   reparation."     He  was  not  prepared  for  what  followed. 
Immediately  on  his  taking  his  seat,  a  brother  arose  and  said : 
"  Brother  Jeter,  I  have  something  against  you.     You  often  pass 
me  in  the  street  without  speaking  to  me,  and  I  am  hurt  by  it. 
My  pastor  certainly  should  speak  to  me  whenever  he  sees  me." 
Brother  Jeter  remembered  the  rebuke.    The  next  morning,  quite 
early,  he  repaired  to  the  building  his  brother  was  engaged  in 
work  upon.     It  happened  to  be  some  church  building  in  the 
city,  and  the  brother  was  quite  high  up  from  the  ground.     Bro- 
ther Jeter  came  to  the  place,  and  lifting  up  his  shrill  voice  to  its 
highest   pitch,  he   called  upon   Brother   Myers   to  come  down. 
When  he  reached  the  ground,  Dr.  Jeter  shook  his  hand  heartily, 
and,  in  his  kindest  manner,  bade  him  "  Good- morning,  Brother 
Myers.     How  are  you,  Brother  Myers?"     Having  accomplished 
his  purpose,  and  shown  Brother  Myers  that  he  was  not  too  proud 
to  speak  to  him,  he  bade  the  brother  "  Good-bye,"  and  left.     It 
is  said  that  the  visit  was  repeated  two  or  three  times  the  same 
day.     But  the  latter  part  of  the  story  is  doubtless  apocryphal. 
It  is  not  recorded  in  the  annals  of  the  church  that,  at  any  future 
time,  Brother  Myers  ever  again  spoke  of  the  want  of  cordial 
greeting  from  his  pastor. 

It  is  often  forgotten  that  a  man's  natural  peculi- 
arities must  inevitably  cling  to  him  when  he  becomes 


PASTORAL  CHARACTER.  331 

a  pastor.  He  does  not  cease  to  be  himself,  but  only 
assumes  the  burdens  of  a  new  office.  His  native 
weaknesses  must  break  out  on  him,  and  get  in  the 
way  of  his  usefulness.  Dr.  Jeter  was  not  a  great 
lover  of  people.  He  had  a  kind  heart,  wished  every- 
body well,  and  was  ready  to  render  a  friendly  service 
whenever  he  could.  But  when  brought  to  deal  with 
humanity  in  detail,  he  was  often  put  at  a  disadvan- 
tage. He  was  reserved,  and  at  times  severe,  in  his 
manners.  He  was  often  so  absorbed  in  his  studies 
that  he  was  impatient  of  interruption.  He  failed  to 
recognize  persons  who  fancied  that  they  were  special 
favorites  of  his,  and  sometimes  gave  great  offence  by 
mistaking  one  individual  for  another.  He  was,  how- 
ever, very  amiable,  and  when  he  made  blunders  of 
this  kind  he  was  always  ready  to  make  apologies, 
and  when  upbraided  for  his  neglects  he  was  as  meek 
as  a  martyr.  He  knew  that  he  was  not  strong  on 
this  line,  and  strove  faithfully  to  improve  ;  but  age 
joined  with  nature,  to  prevent  his  ever  becoming  an 
expert  in  the  social  tactics  of  a  pastor. 

But  it  is  just  to  him  to  say  that  he  made  great 
advancement  in  pastoral  efficiency.  This  will  appear 
if  we  will  read  the  following  paper  from  Dr.  Ryland, 
in  which  he  describes  him  as  he  appeared  to  him 
in  1836,  at  the  beginning  of  his  first  Richmond 
pastorate : 

When  he  was  chosen  pastor  of  the  First  Church  in  Richmond, 
of  which  I  was  a  member,  my  acquaintance  with  him  became 
more  intimate  and  my  relations  more  endearing.  Sitting  under 
his  ministry — when  not  engaged  in  similar  work — and  often 
thrown  into  his  private  company,  I  found  that  he  was  intensely 


332  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

desirous  of  improvement.  Indeed,  he  invited  the  most  severe 
criticisms  on  his  social  life  and  on  his  public  performances.  Allow 
me  to  say  just  here  that  at  the  Columbian  College,  where  I  had 
studied  for  more  than  three  years,  students  were  assembled  from 
nearly  all  the  States,  and  bringing  with  them  the  manners  and 
provincialisms  peculiar  to  their  respective  homes,  they  had 
learned  to  discuss  among  themselves  their  various  points  of  dif- 
ference with  mutual  freedom  and  good-will.  Add  to  this  that 
Dr.  Stoughton,  the  president,  was  a  nice  critic  in  grammar,  pro- 
nunciation, style  and  gesture  in  our  rhetorical  exercises.  All 
this  experience  tended  to  make  me  a  close  observer  of  the  mental 
and  social  habits  of  those  who  came  before  me.  When  the  sub- 
ject of  the  criticism  was  anxious  to  receive  it  and  was  likely  to 
profit  by  it,  I  took  great  pleasure  in  exercising  the  privilege.  It 
happened  that  my  pastor  had  a  singular  coldness  of  manner  in 
saluting  his  friends,  and  that  it  was  circumscribing  his  influence 
for  good  among  his  people.  I  must  give  some  instances.  I  was 
spending  some  days  with  my  loving  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hol- 
lins,  in  Lynchburg.  Her  niece,  Miss  Thomas,  of  Richmond,  was 
also  on  a  visit  to  the  family.  Brother  Jeter,  then  her  pastor, 
was  to  dine  with  us.  We  walked  up  through  the  lawn  towards 
the  £ate  to  meet  him.  The  dear  girl  was  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight 
at  the  idea  of  seeing  her  pastor ;  but  when  they  met,  he  gave  her 
the  most  forbidding  salutation  I  ever  witnessed,  and  she  was 
really  mortified.  I  was  once  at  his  house  when  he  reached  home 
after  several  days'  absence,  and  he  met  his  wife,  who  could  not 
conceal  her  pleasure  at  his  return,  without  a  kiss  and  with  a 
studied  indifference  which  surprised  me  and  distressed  her.  Still, 
he  was  doubtless  an  affectionate  husband  and  a  faithful  friend. 
This  frigid  repulsiveness  of  manner  often  chilled  the  members  of 
his  church,  who  nevertheless  were  drawn  towards  him  by  his 
solid  worth.  Having  seen  this  defect  and  heard  complaints  from 
his  friends,  I  gave  him,  in  private,  a  plain  and  candid  talk  on 
the  subject.  Taking  him  by  the  hand,  grasping  it  firmly  and 
shaking  it  heartily,  I  said :  "  This  is  the  way,  my  brother,  to  shake 
hands."  After  all,  he  was  a  kind-hearted  man,  but  had  fallen 
into  an  odd  way  of  showing  his  affection.  His  sympathy  was 
practical,  but  not  sentimental.     I  have  occasion  to  know  that  he 


PASTORAL  CHARACTER.  333 

often  relieved  suffering  by  substantial  aid,  while  the  man  of  mere 
feeling  would  have  shed  the  useless  tears,  and  spoken  the  words 
of  pity,  and  passed  on.  Still,  cordiality  is  very  pleasant.  There 
was  also  an  absent-mindedness  in  Dr.  Jeter  that  sometimes  set 
him  off  to  great  disadvantage.  At  a  meeting  of  the  Foreign 
Mission  Board  we  were  all  sitting  round  the  room  waiting  to 
begin  our  deliberations,  when  he  came  in  with  a  distinguished 
stranger.  Beginning  at  one  point  in  the  circle,  he  introduced 
him  to  each  member  till  he  came  to  me.  Then  turning  around 
abruptly,  he  began  at  the  same  point,  and  again  introduced  him 
to  each  one,  till  he  reached  me,  when  he  took  the  moderator's 
chair.  I  immediately  rose,  gave  my  hand  to  the  visitor,  told  him 
my  name  and  resumed  my  seat.  He  seemed  not  to  notice  the 
omission,  and  made  no  apology.  I  was  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
charging  him  either  with  great  rudeness  or  with  a  studied  insult, 
though  reluctant  to  adopt  either  alternative.  After  some  delay 
and  reflection,  I  called  on  him  and  kindly  rehearsed  my  griev- 
ance. He  burst  into  a  laugh,  and  declared  it  was  a  case  of  pure 
inadvertency.  I  would  not  mention  so  trifling  an  incident,  but  for 
the  purpose  of  showing  that  good  brethren  may  sometimes  take 
umbrage  and  cherish  alienation  when  no  discourtesy  is  intended. 
This  weakness  showed  itself  sometimes  in  the  pulpit.  After 
reading  a  well-known  chapter  from  one  of  the  epistles,  he  would 
say  in  a  squeaking  voice :  "  So  reads  the  twelfth  chapter  of  Mat- 
theiv,"  and  a  smile  would  pass  over  the  countenances  of  his  au- 
dience. More  serious  is  the  effect  when  a  pastor  cannot  recall 
the  names  of  brethren  and  sisters  whose  faces  are  familiar  and 
who  are  disposed  to  ascribe  the  failure  of  memory  to  pride. 
They  forget  that  the  name  and  the  person  bearing  it  are  two 
different  entities,  and  that  we  may  often  recognize  the  person 
and  not  the  name.  They  should  bear  in  mind,  too,  that  it  is  far 
easier  for  five  hundred  to  retain  the  name  of  one  than  for  that 
one  promptly  to  recall  the  names  of  five  hundred.  So  far  from 
its  being  due  to  pride  that  ministers  do  not  generally  retain  and 
recall  the  names  of  their  friends,  it  is  with  them  universally  a 
source  of  regret  and  humiliation.  In  this  respect  Mr.  Jeter  was 
not  peculiar. 


334  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Those  who  knew  him  in  his  old  age  must  be  sur- 
prised by  some  statements  in  Dr.  Ryland's  paper. 
How  changed  he  was  by  the  experiences  of  forty 
years!  He  believed  in  changes  when  they  were  on 
the  side  of  improvement.  He  studied  his  own  weak 
points  that  he  might  strengthen  them.  He  never 
became  perfect,  but  he  got  better  and  better  to  the 
last.  He  steadily  grew  Christ-ward.  While  never 
exactly  popular  as  a  pastor,  Dr.  Jeter  was  always 
revered  and  honored.  The  young  people  were  not 
very  easy  and  free  with  him,  but  they  did  not  com- 
plain of  that.  It  was  no  more  than  they  could  expect. 
They  realized  that  the  distance  between  them  was 
all  in  his  favor.  His  holiness  and  wisdom  put  him 
beyond  the  reach  of  familiarity.  He  had  a  hold 
upon  them — not  such  as  comes  from  that  romping 
and  rollicking  freedom  which  some  pastors  encourage 
on  the  part  of  their  young  people,  but  from  their  deep 
veneration  for  his  character.  Their  love  for  Dr. 
Jeter  was,  in  itself,  a  devout  and  godly  thing,  essen- 
tially a  religious  sentiment,  awakened,  not  by  his 
captivating  manners,  but  by  his  solid  christian  worth. 
The  old  people  drew  nearer  to  him.  They  passed  the 
outer  gate  of  his  reserve,  and  came  in  sight  of  his 
heart.  They  knew  him,  not  only  in  his  massive 
strength  and  exalted  piety,  but  in  his  kindly  and 
loving  spirit.  They  looked  upon  him  as  simply 
peerless, — the  greatest  of  men, — and  when  he  stepped 
out  of  his  pastorate,  they  did  not  find  it  easy  to  open 
their  embrace  for  those  who  came  to  succeed  him. 

It  was  my  fortune  to  succeed  him,  though  not 
immediately,  in  the  pastorate  of  a  church  of  which 


PASTORAL  CHARACTER.  335 

he  continued  to  be  a  member.  I  had  an  ample  op- 
portunity of  observing;  the  place  which  he  retained 
in  the  hearts  of  his  people.  Their  love  for  him  was 
tender  and  strong,  and  grew  to  the  last. 

I  often  find  myself  agreeing  with  my  honored 
friend,  A.  H.  Sands,  in  his  estimates  of  Dr.  Jeter. 
He  measured  him  critically,  but  with  justness  and 
candor.  In  what  he  has  to  say  of  him,  he  exhibits 
a  singular  freedom  from  extravagance  and  prejudice. 
It  is  a  pleasant  picture  of  his  old  pastor,  which  he 
presents  in  the  paper  below.  Dr.  Jeter  was  evi- 
dently too  forbearing  in  matters  of  discipline.  A 
pastor  ought  to  lean  to  mercy's  side  ;  but  he  must 
not  lean  too  far.  His  compassion  for  the  weak  must 
not  cause  him  to  forget  the  honor  of  his  church.  He 
must  not  seem  to  connive  at  wrong-doing.  Dr.  Jeter 
was  not  discriminating  in  his  judgment  of  men.  In- 
deed, he  did  not  study  human  character  very  closely, 
and  often,  on  questions  of  discipline,  his  views  were 
unsafe.  He  understood  the  principles  admirably, 
but  he  was  in  danger  of  going  astray,  when  called  to 
apply  them.  In  the  case  of  a  brother  arraigned  for 
disorder,  he  was  often  willing,  on  the  score  of  charity, 
to  give  him  another  chance.  He  was  hopeful  of  hu- 
manity, and  thought  generally  that  the  brother  who 
had  stumbled  in  the  past  would  almost  certainly 
recover  his  uprightness  in  the  future. 

This  is  always  a  puzzling  matter  to  a  pastor.  It 
is  hard  for  him  to  find  the  golden  mean  between 
leniency  and  severity.  Dr.  Fuller  once  said  of  a 
brother  pastor,  that  his  chief  mission  in  the  world 
seemed  to  be  to  turn  people  out  of  the  church.     If 


336  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Dr.  Jeter  erred  at  all,  it  was  in  the  direction  of  for- 
bearance.    Here  is  what  Brother  Sands  says  : 

Dr.  Jeter  was  not  a  rigid,  but  a  moderate  church  disciplinarian. 
When  it  became  necessary  to  discipline,  even  to  exclude,  one  of 
his  members,  he  did  hot  shrink  from  the  performance  of  his  duty. 
But  his  aim  ever  was,  as  it  ever  should  be  the  aim  of  church 
members,  to  impress  upon  the  person  dealt  with  that  it  was  not  in 
anger,  but  in  love,  that  the  disciplinary  power  of  the  church  was 
exercised. 

For  nine  years  I  was  a  deacon  in  his  church,  and  can  tell  you 
of  his  methods  during  that  time.  Our  deacons'  meetings  were 
conducted  very  simply.  A  reading  of  a  brief  passage  of  the 
Scriptures  and  a  prayer  opened  the  meeting.  After  that,  there 
came  before  us  the  several  matters  of  church  finance,  the  wants 
of  the  poor  members,  the  needs  of  the  sick,  and  then  such  cases 
as  might  demand  the  attention  of  the  church,  either  for  neglect 
of  church  duty  or  for  some  unchristian  conduct.  These  meetings 
were  held  once  a  month  in  the  pastor's  study,  and  were  attended 
by  all  the  deacons  and  the  pastor  with  unfailing  regularity. 

As  chairman  of  his  church  meetings,  he  was  always  courteous, 
Christian  and  gentlemanly.  He  never  became  angry.  When 
provocations  occurred  he  would  aim  to  be  gentle,  and  to  keep  in 
check,  the  church  members  as  well  as  himself.  He  had  firm  con- 
victions of  duty,  and  sought  to  carry  them  out,  but  neither  in 
the  more  public  convocations  of  the  Baptists  nor  in  his  own 
church  have  I  ever  seen  him  do  anything  unkind  and  unfraternal. 
His  judgments  were  usually  sanctioned  by  the  approval  of  his 
brethren.  He  was  always  open  in  his  advocacy,  and  as  open  and 
pronounced  in  his  opposition.  He  had  no  finesse.  He  was  with- 
out artifice.  He  never  aimed  to  circumvent.  He  was  content 
to  let  reason  do  her  own  work,  without  any  help  from  so-called  relig- 
ious tact.  I  doubt  whether  long  training  and  diligent  study, 
under  most  adroit  and  skillful  teachers,  could  ever  have  made  a 
decent  wire-puller  of  him.  There  was  one  thing  he  could  not  be 
— he  could  not  be  dishonest.  All  these  traits  were  marked  as 
distinctly  in  his  connection  with  his  individual  church  as  in  the 
great  annual  gatherings  of  the  Baptists. 


PASTORAL  CHARACTER.  337 

From  his  early  life  he  became  a  sort  of  authority 
among  his  brother  pastors,  on  those  doctrinal  and 
practical  questions  which  so  often  cause  trouble  in 
the  churches.  They  frequently  plied  him  with 
queries,  and  these  he  always  answered  with  brotherly 
courtesy,  and  after  mature  thought.  Here  is  a  letter 
in  which,  as  far  back  as  1849,  he  gave  his  views  of 
"  alien  immersions  "  : 

Richmond,  Jan.  27,  1849. 
Rev.  L.  W.  Moore  : 

Dear  Bro. — I  have  not  had  an  earlier  opportunity  to  reply  to 
your  letter.  The  question  as  to  the  validity  of  baptism  performed 
by  a  Pedo-baptist  minister  on  a  properly  qualified  subject  does 
not  seem  to  me  to  be  of  great  practical  importance.  It  cannot  be 
decided  by  the  direct  teaching  of  the  Scriptures,  for  no  such 
question  could  have  arisen  in  apostolic  times.  Its  decision  must 
depend  on  remote  and  not  very  certain  inferences.  Many  of  our 
Associations  have  decided  the  question,  some  one  way,  and  some 
the  other ;  and  a  few,  as  the  Dover,  for  instance,  both  ways. 
Our  wisest  ministers  have  differed  on  the  subject ;  and  have 
agreed  to  differ.  I  deem  it,  therefore,  ill-judged  to  lay  any  stress 
on  the  subject.  Let  pastors  and  churches,  and  persons  immersed 
by  Pedo-baptists,  or  others  not  in  fellowship  with  our  churches, 
settle  the  question  for  themselves.  While  the  world  stands, 
plausible  arguments  may  be  offered  on  both  sides  of  it.  Whoever 
enters  into  the  discussion,  I  shall  not.  Still,  I  have  my  view,  and 
I  will  briefly  indicate  the  ground  of  it. 

I  think  that  baptism  (immersion)  performed  on  a  believer,  in 
a  solemn  and  becoming  manner,  by  a  Pedo-baptist  minister,  or 
other  unbaptized  person  supposed  by  the  candidate  to  be  a  quali- 
fied administrator,  is  valid  for  the  following  reasons  : 

1.  The  opposite  opinion  proceeds  on  the  supposition  that  the 
baptism  of  the  administrator  is  essential  to  the  validity  of  the 
ordinance.  If  this  is  true,  it  is  probable,  indeed,  almost  certain, 
that  there  is  no  valid  baptism  in  the  world.  For  who  can  believe 
that  Baptists,  outlawed,  persecuted,  and  hunted  as  they  have  been, 
22 


338  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  DD. 

have  maintained  an  unbroken  line  of  baptisms  from  the  time  of 
the  apostles  ? 

2.  The  opposite  view  exalts  baptism  above  piety.  I  admit  that 
none  are  duly  authorized  to  administer  baptism  but  such  as  be- 
lieve in  Christ,  are  immersed,  members  of  a  visible  church,  called 
of  God  to  the  ministry,  and  properly  ordained  by  the  church  to 
the  work.  But  are  all  these  qualifications  essential  to  the  validity 
of  the  ordinance  ?  Not  according  to  Baptist  usage.  The  baptism 
of  hypocrites  or  of  impostors  is  held  to  be  valid.  Why  should 
the  lack  of  baptism,  any  more  than  of  piety,  invalidate  the 
ordinance  ? 

3.  Baptism  is  an  act  of  obedience  on  the  part  of  a  believer, 
and  may  be  sincere,  the  answer  of  a  good  conscience,  acceptable 
to  God,  though  there  may  be  some  unknown  defect  in  the  qualifi- 
cations of  the  administrator.  God  will  hold  him  responsible  for 
the  unauthorized  act,  but  not  the  right-meaning  subject  of  it. 

4.  On  the  score  of  expediency,  I  see  nothing  to  be  gained,  but 
much  to  be  lost,  by  repudiating  Pedo-baptist  immersions.  Many 
who  have  been  immersed  by  Pedo-baptists,  finding  their  position 
in  Pedo-baptist  churches  inconsistent,  would  readily  unite  with 
Baptist  churches  and  become  valuable  members,  but  they  cannot 
generally  be  easily  persuaded  to  repeat  their  baptism.  Again,  it 
is,  in  my  view,  sound  policy  to  encourage  the  immersion  of  believers 
among  Pedo-baptists,  for  in  this  way  our  views  of  the  ordinance 
are  indirectly  spread,  and,  in  the  end,  the  whole  fabric  of  infant 
baptism  would  be  overthrown. 

Having  devoted  more  time  to  the  subject  than  the  good  likely 
to  flow  from  my  labor  justifies,  I  am,  yours  truly, 

J.  B.  Jeter. 

As  it  is  worth  while  to  uncover  Dr.  Jeter  to  the 
view  of  the  reader  at  every  possible  turn  in  his  life, 
I  put  here  a  droll  and  laughable  incident  which 
occurred  in  one  of  his  church  meetings.  I  will  allow 
an  eye-witness  to  tell  the  story  in  his  own  words : 

I  saw  him  once  completely  nonplussed.  We  had  a  church 
member,  a  Brother  S.,  who  had  given  us  much  trouble.     He  was 


PASTORAL  CHARACTER.  339 

negligent  of  his  church  duty,  he  rarely  attended  the  Sabbath 
exercises  of  the  church  and  was  never  present  at  any  other  meet- 
ings of  the  church,  whether  for  business  or  for  devotion.  It  was 
said,  too,  and  believed,  that  his  walk  in  daily  life  was  irregular. 
The  church  was  greatly  tried.  After  repeated  notices  to  be 
present,  he  was  finally  gotten  to  one  of  the  business  meetings  of 
the  church,  and  his  case  was  taken  up  and  considered.  The 
church  was  unwilling  to  exclude  him,  hoping  that  milder  disci- 
pline might  effect  a  reformation.  The  resolution  was  taken  to 
administer  to  him  a  public  reproof,  and  the  pastor  was  called 
upon  to  discharge  that  office  at  once.  Brother  S.  was  requested 
to  take  his  seat  on  the  front  pew,  and  Brother  Jeter  proceeded  to 
obey  the  order  of  the  church  in  administering  the  reproof.  The 
pastor  began  by  telling  item  by  item  the  almost  numberless 
delinquencies  of  the  brother.  He  told  him  of  his  neglect  of  duty, 
of  his  absence  from  the  church,  of  the  anxiety  his  absence  pro- 
duced, of  the  great  care  and  circumspection  demanded  of  the 
Christian  in  his  daily  walk.  In  brief,  he  administered  both  a 
thorough  and  stinging  rebuke  for  his  neglects,  and  urged  upon 
him  the  need  for  amendment.  All  was  put  in  most  appropriate 
style.  At  its  conclusion,  with  emphasis,  and  to  re-awaken  the 
dormant  Christian  feeling  of  the  recusant  member,  if  he  had  any, 
he  asked  him,  "  In  view  of  all  this,  of  what  I  have  said  to  you, 
and  this  present  admonition,  Brother  S.,  how  do  you  feel  ?"  Of 
course,  something  of  penitence  was  looked  for ;  something  of  regret 
for  the  delinquencies  of  so  many  months  and  years.  But  neither 
appeared  in  the  countenance  or  in  the  speech  of  the  imperturba- 
ble brother.  With  a  nonchalance  almost  incredible,  he  replied : 
"  I  am  feeling  pretty  well,  I  thank  you."  This  was  the  last 
admonition  Brother  S.  ever  received  from  the  lips  of  the  kind 
pastor.  A  few  months  after,  he  was  cut  off  from  the  church,  and 
was  as  happy  and  felt  as  well  outside  the  church  as  he  had  ever 
felt  in  it. 

The  opinion  is  expressed  in  a  former  chapter  that 
Dr.  Jeter  was  not  eminent  for  success  in  revival 
meetings.  The  remark  may  be  misleading.  His 
labors  among  other  churches  were  sometimes  attended 


340  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

with  wonderful  success,  and  occasionally  he  conducted 
the  meetings  in  his  own  churches,  with  the  happiest 
results.  When  he  had  the  aid  of  other  pastors,  he 
retained  charge  of  his  meetings,  delivered  exhorta- 
tions, instructed  inquirers,  examined  candidates  for 
baptism  and  visited  the  unconverted. 

One  of  his  methods  of  reaching  the  more  intelli- 
gent and  thoughtful  members  of  his  congregation 
was  by  writing  them  letters.  This  he  often  did,  and 
not  unfrequently  with  the  most  pleasing  consequences. 
Below  will  be  found  a  letter  written  to  a  young  man 
in  1846,  and  it  is  made  public  now  for  the  first  time. 
It  was  a  nail  in  a  sure  place,  and  the  brother  to 
whom  it  was  addressed  is  now  an  honored  member 
of  the  First  Baptist  Church  of  Richmond. 

Richmond,  Sept  28,  1846. 
Wilson  Thomas  : 

Dear  Sir — Let  the  earnest  solicitude  which  I  feel  for  your  wel- 
fare, and  the  difficulty  of  having  a  private  interview  with  you, 
be  my  apology  for  addressing  you  by  letter.  The  late  severe 
affliction  in  your  father's  family  cannot  have  failed  to  impress  on 
your  mind  the  importance  of  an  early  preparation  to  meet  God. 
I  am  anxious,  and  your  parents  are  far  more  deeply  anxious,  that 
this  impression  should  not  prove  evanescent  and  unprofitable. 
God  has  been  gracious  to  you.  From  your  childhood  you  have 
been  taught  the  nature  and  necessity  of  religion ;  and,  no  doubt, 
your  heart  has  often  prompted  you  to  embrace  it.  God  has  now 
sent  a  painful  affliction  on  you  for  the  purpose  of  calling  your 
attention  more  strongly  to  the  religious  lessons  which  you  have 
learned.     And  shall  this  solemn  warning  be  in  vain  ?   I  trust  not. 

Consider,  my  young  friend,  you  owe  it  to  your  own  soul  to  be 
religious.  God  has  given  you  a  soul  of  inestimable  woi-th. 
Whether  that  soul  shall  be  happy  or  miserable,  an  inhabitant  of 
heaven  or  hell,  depends  on  your  conduct  in  this  short  life.     And 


PASTORAL  CHARACTER.  341 

will  you,  can  you,  be  so  cruel  to  your  soul  as  to  neglect  its  salva- 
tion— to  risk  its  eternal  well-being,  even  for  a  single  day  ? 

You  owe  it  to  your  family  to  become  religious  without  delay. 
You  well  know  how  deep  and  painful  is  the  anxiety  which  your 
parents  feel  for  your  conversion.  They  have  long  prayed,  and 
hoped  and  waited  for  it.  No  event  could  give  them  so  great  joy. 
You  have  seen  their  anguish  caused  by  the  death  of  your  dear 
brother ;  but  if  that  calamity  should  be  the  means  of  leading  you 
to  Christ,  and  securing  your  salvation,  their  sorrow  would  be 
greatly  soothed.  If  there  were  no  higher  motive,  and  it  were 
possible  to  be  pious  from  this  motive  alone,  you  should  become 
religious  for  the  pleasure  it  would  yield  your  venerated  parents. 
But  there  is  a  higher  and  stronger  motive  still. 

You  owe  it  to  God  to  obey  the  gospel.  He  is  your  Creator  and 
rightful  Sovereign.  And,  though  you  have  rebelled  against  Him, 
He  has  been  long-suffering  and  kind  to  you.  He  gave  His  Son  to 
be  the  propitiation  for  your  sins.  His  servants  have  instructed, 
warned  and  exhorted  you.  His  Spirit  has,  doubtless,  moved  you 
to  repentance.  And  now,  let  me  seriously  ask  you,  my  young 
friend,  can  you  slight  so  much  goodness,  and  disregard  such  strong 
claims  to  your  love  and  obedience  ?  Who  is  so  lovely  as  Jesus 
Christ  ?  Who  has  performed  or  endured  so  much  to  win  your 
love  ?  Who  can  so  richly  reward  your  poor  services  ?  Oh !  surely 
if  anything  is  right,  it  is  right  to  serve  and  honor  God. 

Let  me  now,  in  view  of  all  these  considerations,  solemnly  and 
earnestly  beseech  you  to  give  instant,  constant  and  serious  atten- 
tion to  the  subject  of  religion.  Permit  not  this  favorable  oppor- 
tunity to  pass  unimproved.  Your  heart  is  tender,  your  conscience 
is,  in  some  measure,  awakened,  and  in  this  hour  of  trouble  you 
should  call  on  the  Lord.  I  would  not  advise  you  to  postpone 
attention  to  the  gospel  until  our  protracted  meeting  shall  com- 
mence ;  but  I  hope  you  may  find  it  convenient,  and  may  be  dis- 
posed, to  attend  the  meetings  with  regularity,  and  a  resolution,  by 
God's  help,  to  be  profited  by  them. 

With  sincere  wishes  and  fervent  prayers  for  your  salvation, 
I  am,  with  true  affection, 

J.  B.  Jeter. 


342  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

During  the  war  he  wrote  a  tract  with  the  title, 
"  A  Mother's  Parting  Words  to  her  Soldier  Boy,"  for 
distribution  in  the  Southern  army.  It  had  a  very 
extensive  circulation,  and  he  learned  that  it  was  the 
instrument  of  leading  many  soldiers  to  Christ.  It 
was  a  production  of  rare  merit.  It  was  a  strong 
Scriptural  appeal  in  favor  of  the  gospel,  and  breathed 
a  yearning  tenderness  which  really  seemed  to  have 
been  born  of  a  mother's  heart. 

It  can  hardly  be  claimed  that  he  had  any  great 
tact  in  approaching  the  unconverted.  He  did  not 
seem  to  feel  that  he  was  well  adapted  to  that  work, 
and  it  is  likely  that  his  solemn  dignity  of  manner 
caused  the  timid  and  the  careless  to  dread  him. 
But  he  was  by  no  means  backward  in  pleading  with 
sinners.  He  was  instant  in  season  and  out  of  season. 
His  zeal  burned  with  a  steady  flame,  even  down  to 
old  age,  and  he  ceased  not  to  warn  men  as  he  had 
opportunity.  An  almost  thrilling  illustration  of  this 
fact  is  found  in  the  subjoined  extract  from  an  article 
written  for  the  Baltimore  Baptist,  in  1886,  by  Rev. 
G.  W.  Beale  on  "  A  Day  with  Dr.  J.  B.  Jeter" : 

It  was  my  privilege  in  the  autumn  of  1886,  in  "Westmoreland 
County,  Va.,  to  meet  the  late  Dr.  J.  B.  Jeter  for  the  first  time 
and  to  share  his  companionship  during  a  day's  ride,  the  object  of 
which  was  to  gratify  his  expressed  wish  to  visit  Stratford  and 
Wakefield,  the  birth-places  of  General  Lee  and  Washington.  I 
was  at  the  time  just  entering  upon  the  Christian  ministry,  and  he 
was  about  retiring  from  the  pastoral  office  which  he  had  so  long 
and  successfully  filled.  I  was,  accordingly,  ready  to  embrace 
and  improve  the  opportunity  of  sharing  his  company  and  coun- 
sel for  a  day  with  all  the  interest  and  ardor  that  youth  is  gene- 


PASTORAL  CHARACTER.  343 

rally  so  ready  to  accord  to  one  whose  ripened  experience  and 
wisdom  have  won  eminent  distinction  and  honor  in  life. 

Some  of  the  incidents  of  this  ride,  as  they  relate  to  certain 
characteristics  and  habits  of  Dr.  Jeter,  made  a  lasting  impression 
upon  my  mind,  and  the  publication  of  them  may  prove  of  interest 
and  profit  to  others. 

A  drive  of  a  few  miles  on  the  morning  of  the  day  in  question 
brought  us  to  Nomini  Creek,  which  had  to  be  crossed  in  an  open 
ferry-boat.  During  the  passage,  as  Mr.  Frederick,  the  well-known 
ferry-man,  pulled  away  at  his  chain,  Dr.  Jeter  engaged  him  in 
conversation  on  the  constant  perils  of  his  vocation,  his  need  of 
a  saving  interest  in  Christ  and  a  preparation  for  death.  The 
promptness  with  which  he  seized  the  opportunity  and  the  season- 
ableness  of  the  Doctor's  godly  admonition  in  this  case  impressed 
me  at  the  time,  and  more  so  shortly  afterwards,  when  the  ferry- 
man's son  was  suddenly  drawn  overboard  by  the  same  chain  and 
drowned. 

After  leaving  the  ferry  and  ascending  the  hill  beyond,  we 
overtook  a  young  man  walking,  whom  we  invited  to  occupy  a 
vacant  seat  in  our  vehicle.  He  accepted  the  offer  and  shared 
our  ride  for  an  hour  or  more,  and  during  much  of  the  time  he 
was  with  us  Dr.  Jeter  engaged  him  also  in  religious  conversation, 
urging  upon  him  the  need  of  a  personal  interest  in  the  Saviour. 
And  when  our  roads  diverged,  and  he  alighted  to  resume  his 
walk,  the  Doctor's  parting  words  with  him  were  a  kind  entreaty 
to  seek  to  plant  his  feet  "  in  the  highway  of  holiness."  These 
words  of  gracious  admonition,  as  I  heard  them  fall  from  Dr. 
Jeter's  lips,  became  riveted  on  my  feelings  and  memory  when, 
just  one  week  later,  I  was  called  to  minister  at  the  burial  of  the 
young  man  whom  he  had  so  kindly  and  faithfully  entreated. 

Nothing  seemed  to  call  forth  his  sympathy  so  fully 
as  an  exhibition  of  religious  concern  on  the  part  of 
the  unconverted. 

If  he  heard  of  one  who  was  inquiring  the  way  of 
life,  he  would  go  in  search  of  him,  and  do  his  utmost 
to  save  him.    His  faithfulness  in  instructing  inquirers 


344  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

was  worthy  of  all  imitation.  He  took  them  from 
the  beginning,  unfolding  to  them  their  true  condition 
as  sinners,  explaining  the  nature  and  value  of  Christ's 
sacrifice,  and  presenting,  in  simple  phrase,  the  terms 
of  salvation. 

He  was  never  in  a  hurry  in  rushing  people  into 
the  church.  He  was  as  careful  in  rejecting  the  un- 
worthy as  he  was  zealous  in  receiving  those  who 
brought  forth  the  fruits  of  repentance.  His  greatest 
anxiety  as  a  pastor  was  to  promote  the  spirituality 
of  his  own  people.  It  cut  him  deeply  when  he  dis- 
covered signs  of  apathy,  inconsistency  or  worldliness 
among  his  members. 

I  was  with  him  in  the  Pastors'  Conference  in 
Richmond,  Va.,  one  Monday  morning  in  1860.  He 
seemed  to  be  sorely  cast  down  by  the  spiritual  con- 
dition of  his  church.  One  of  the  pastors  remarked 
that  he  was  much  encouraged  by  the  look  of  things 
in  his  church  the  day  before,  adding  that  his  brethren 
seemed  to  be  greatly  "  stirred  up."  Dr.  Jeter  said 
very  sorrowfully,  and  yet,  in  a  tone  that  provoked 
a  smile,  "My  church  seems  to  be  greatly  stirred 
down." 

While  not  an  expert  in  managing  his  prayer- 
meetings,  he  always  redeemed  them  from  dullness 
by  the  sprightliness  and  vigor  of  his  talks.  He 
never  made  singing  a  prominent  or  specially  inspiring 
part  of  the  service,  and  never  could  learn  how  to 
induce  his  brethren  to  take  public  part  in  the  exer- 
cises. It  was  one  of  his  faults  as  a  pastor  that  he 
did  too  much  of  the  talking  himself,  but  then  he  did 
it  so  well  that  others  preferred  to  be  silent. 


PASTORAL  CHARACTER.  345 

I  believe  that  it  was  his  usual  custom  to  preach  on 
funeral  occasions.  He  said  that  he  looked  upon  them 
as  intended  for  the  living  and  not  for  the  dead.  He 
rarely  indulged  in  eulogies  of  deceased  persons, 
unless  they  were  justly  distinguished  for  the  excel- 
lence of  their  character  and  work.  While  in  St. 
Louis  he  was  called  to  attend  a  funeral.  He  preached 
as  usual,  and  had  very  little  to  say  of  the  deceased. 
This  gave  the  family  mortal  offence,  and  they  never 
forgave  him  for  it. 

His  memory  was  deplorably  weak  as  to  individu- 
als, and  sometimes  brought  him  into  awkward  and 
trying  situations.  Soon  after  I  came  to  the  pastor- 
ate of  the  Grace  Street  Church,  a  former  member  of 
that  church,  who  years  before  had  left  Richmond, 
died,  and  her  remains  were  brought  back  for  inter- 
ment. The  body  was  deposited  in  the  church,  and 
Dr.  Jeter,  as  her  old  pastor,  was  engaged  to  attend 
the  funeral.  Though,  not  invited  to  take  any  part 
in  the  services,  I  was  in  my  study  adjoining  the 
pulpit.  At  the  appointed  time  the  friends  assembled, 
but  the  Doctor  did  not  appear.  A  gentleman  came 
into  the  study  to  inquire  after  him,  but  I  could  give 
no  information.  After  waiting  a  few  moments,  it  was 
decided  to  send  a  messenger  for  him,  and  it  was 
found  that  he  had  entirely  forgotten  his  engagement. 
Soon  after,  he  came  racing  up  the  stairway,  groaning 
and  talking  to  himself,  and  without  stopping  to 
knock,  burst  into  the  study. 

"  Dear  me  !"  he  exclaimed  in  tones  of  self-reproach 
and  despair.  "  What  a  wretch  I  am.  It  is  just  like 
me.     Who  was  she  ?     What  was  her  name  ?     Did  I 


346  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

ever  know  her  ?  Was  she  a  member  of  the  church  ? 
Do  tell  me  something  about  her." 

I  had  to  confess  that  I  could  give  him  no  light,  but 
mildly  suggested  to  him  that,  as  he  was  already  a 
half-hour  behind  time,  he  had  better  go  in  and  begin 
the  service.  I  could  not  restrain  my  laughter,  as  I 
observed  the  caution  and  uneasiness  with  which  he 
selected  his  Scriptures  and  made  his  prayers.  Fin- 
ally he  took  his  text,  and  opening  with  the  remark 
that  funerals  were  for  the  living  and  not  for  the 
dead,  he  preached  a  sermon,  full  of  unction  and  com- 
fort. 

Dr.  Jeter  did  not  consider  that  his  pastoral  obliga- 
tions forbade  his  activity  in  other  departments  of 
Christian  work.  I  have  spoken  already  of  his  valu- 
able leadership  in  missionary  and  educational  enter- 
prises, and  also  of  his  readiness  to  assist  his  brother 
pastors  in  their  protracted  meetings.  Perhaps  no 
Baptist  minister  who  ever  lived  in  Richmond  gave 
so  much  of  his  time  to  Board  meetings,  Conventions 
and  Committee  work  as  he  did  while  yet  a  pastor. 
It  ought  to  be  mentioned  that  his  heaviest  literary 
work  was  performed  during  the  time  that  he  was 
diligently  engaged  in  the  pastorate. 

In  the  more  personal  and  practical  aspects  of  his 
ministerial  labors  he  was  not  the  equal  of  Dr.  James 
B.  Taylor.  This  can  be  said  without  reflecting  upon 
his  efficiency,  for  Dr.  Taylor  had  very  few  equals  in 
these  respects.  He  was  indefatigable  in  his  visita- 
tions and  almost  peerless  in  the  skill  with  which  he 
managed  his  churches. 

But  taken  all  in  all,  Dr.  Jeter  was  an  excellent 


PASTORAL  CHARACTER.  347 

pastor.  As  a  teacher,  he  was  pre-eminent ;  as  a 
counsellor,  he  was  prudent,  conservative  and  faith- 
ful ;  as  a  comforter,  he  was  not  demonstrative,  but 
considerate  and  hopeful ;  and  in  his  private  life  he 
set  before  his  people  an  example  which  they  could 
not  follow  without  becoming  wiser  and  better. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP. 

IN  contemplating  Dr.  Jeter  in  his  literary  sphere  we 
must  remember  that  he  was  not  a  professional 
author.  Book-making  was  not  his  business. 
From  his  entrance  into  the  ministry  he  had  upon 
him  a  constant  burden  of  evangelical,  pastoral  and 
denominational  work.  His  appointed  tasks  filled  his 
hands,  absorbed  his  time  and  consumed  his  energies. 
He  was  an  utter  stranger  to  that  grateful  sense  of 
independence  and  literary  ease  which  is  the  happiest 
fortune  of  an  author.  He  could  never  devote  his 
freshest  moments  and  his  well-rested  powers  to  liter- 
ature. It  requires  genius  and  happy  surroundings  to 
enable  a  man  to  attain  the  highest  results.  We  need 
not  wonder  that  men  like  Washington  Irving  and 
Ruskin,  who,  to  brilliant  gifts  and  ripened  learning, 
added  the  best  outward  condition,  should  achieve 
abiding  distinction  in  the  realm  of  literature.  They 
had  freedom  from  care,  time  for  research,  access  to 
libraries  and  ample  opportunities  for  travel.  There 
was  nothing  to  hinder,  and  much  to  help  them. 

It  is  not  too  much  to  claim  that  if  Dr.  Jeter,  with 

his  strong  gifts  and  patient  devotion  to  study,  had 

been  reared  in   a  literary  atmosphere  and  favored 

with  leisure  and  means  for  travel  and  research,  he 

348 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  349 

would  have  attained  the  highest  celebrity  as  an 
author. 

As  it  was,  the  production  of  books  was  entirely 
incidental  with  him.  What  he  gave  to  the  public 
was  written  at  the  odds  and  ends  of  time — in  mo- 
ments snatched  from  routine  cares,  and  always  in  the 
midst  of  trying  interruptions.  The  bulk  of  his  labor 
in  the  literary  line  was  performed  at  night,  and  at 
the  end  of  days  which  had  been  crowded  with  toil 
and  worry.  For  the  man  who  has  three  sermons  a 
week  to  produce,  various  religious  services  to  con- 
duct, pastoral  calls  to  make,  funerals  and  marriages 
to  attend,  company,  congenial  and  sometimes  very 
otherwise,  to  entertain,  daily  tides  of  letters  to  read 
and  to  answer,  with  Board  meetings,  ecclesiastical 
councils,  committees,  ordinations  and  numberless 
outside  engagements  ever  pressing  upon  him,  some 
allowance  ought,  in  common  fairness,  to  be  made 
when  he  undertakes  to  write  a  book. 

Praises,  many  and  well-merited,  have  been  ac- 
corded to  Lord  Macaulay,  who  turned  from  London 
society,  of  which  he  was  a  central  light,  and  from 
the  House  of  Commons,  at  the  crowning  point  of  his 
popularity,  that  he  might  give  himself  wholly  to  his 
literary  labors.  A  richer  meed  of  commendation  is 
due  to  him  who,  while  unable  to  escape  from  his  daily 
duties  or  to  retire  from  social  life,  yet,  with  his  frag- 
ments of  time,  could  perform  honorable  service  in  the 
field  of  literature.  Dr.  Jeter's  books  are  the  produc- 
tions of  an  overworked  man. 

At  the  present  day  many  devices  have  been  in- 
vented for  lightening  the  drudgeries  of  literary  men. 


350  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

The  type-writer,  the  stenographer  and  the  amanu- 
ensis often  play  their  valuable  but  unrecognized 
parts  in  the  author's  life.  A  popular  American 
preacher  of  the  present  day  thrills  his  audiences 
every  Sunday  with  illustrations  which  are  selected 
for  him  by  his  literary  drudge.  A  famous  preacher 
beyond  the  sea,  has  surprised  the  world  by  the  num- 
ber and  varied  learning  of  his  books,  and  yet  it  is  an 
open  secret  that  the  most  learned  portions  of  his 
works  are  the  gatherings  of  other  men.  Dr.  Jeter 
never  caught  the  art  of  utilizing  other  men  in  his 
literary  labors.  He  did  his  own  work.  All  of  his 
books  were  the  products  of  his  own  pen,  and  largely 
the  outcome  of  unaided  research.  * 

Another  fact  ought  to  be  put  into  the  account. 
Dr.  Jeter  was  not  animated  by  the  hope  either  of 
fame  or  fortune  in  his  authorial  efforts.  For  some  of 
his  books  he  never  received  one  dollar  of  compensa- 
tion, and  his  "  Memoir  of  Witt "  was  published  at  his 
own  expense,  and  as  a  tribute  of  affection  to  the  most 
beloved  friend  of  his  life.  His  biographical  works 
were  undertaken  either  at  the  solicitation  of  others 
or  as  grateful  attempts  to  embalm  the  memory  of 
those  who  had  won  distinction  in  the  service  of  his 
Master.  His  two  books  on  Campbellism  were  writ- 
ten in  response  to  a  public  call,  and  while  they  cost 
him  vast  and  painstaking  investigation,  added  noth- 
ing to  his  fortune. 

It  is  proposed  in  this  chapter  to  make  a  survey  of 
his  literary  career.  It  will  contain  a  brief  sketch  of 
his  more  extended  publications.  This  does  not 
promise  any  great  entertainment  to  the  reader ;  in- 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  351 

deed,  it  hints  at  something  decidedly  dry.  But  I  hope 
that  the  barrenness  of  the  account  may  be  partially 
relieved  by  specimen  extracts  from  the  several  works 
that  will  be  brought  under  review. 


*c' 


"Memoir  of  Abner  W.  Clopton." 

This  was  Dr.  Jeter's  first  attempt  at  authorship. 
It  appeared  in  1837,  and  was  published  by  Yale  & 
Wyatt,  of  Richmond,  Va.  It  was  a  small  book, 
neatly  printed,  cheaply  gotten  up  and  contained  283 
pages.  Much  of  the  material  is  taken  from  the  jour- 
nal, letters  and  addresses  of  Mr.  Clopton.  Perhaps 
one-third  of  the  matter  is  original.  It  was  written 
when  Dr.  Jeter  was  yet  under  thirty-five  years  of 
age,  and  yet  the  style  of  its  composition  is  admirable. 
In  the  beauty  of  its.  diction,  the  structure  of  its  sen- 
tences, the  fervor  of  its  spirit  and  the  grasp  of  its 
thought  it  compares  favorably  with  his  subsequent 
productions. 

Why  he  wrote  this  memoir  is  not  known.  As  it 
contains  no  preface,  we  are  left  without  any  clue  to 
the  reasons  which  led  to  its  preparation.  It  is  known 
that  he  was  an  ardent  admirer  of  Mr.  Clopton,  and 
often  said  that  he  was  the  most  godly  man  that  he 
ever  knew.  By  birth  Mr.  Clopton  was  a  Virginian, 
and  while  he  spent  his  life  in  a  rural  pastorate,  he 
distinguished  himself  greatly  as  a  temperance  re- 
former, a  controversialist,  a  champion  of  higher  edu- 
cation, an  advocate  of  missions  and  an  evangelist. 
He  died  in  the  prime  of  life,  and  his  departure  was 
lamented  as  a  sad  calamity  to  the  denomination. 

The  book  did  not  succeed.     This  may  have  been 


352  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.T). 

due  in  part  to  the  youthfulness  of  the  author,  the 
limited  reputation  of  the  subject,  or  to  that  indiffer- 
ence to  biographical  works  which  seems  to  be  so 
wide-spread  and  incurable. 

Mr.  Sands  suggests  quite  a  different  explanation 
of  the  failure  of  this  really  thrilling  little  book  to 
secure  the  favor  of  the  public.  He  says  that  it  was 
"  due  to  the  fact,  that  its  publishers  were  on  the 
verge  of  insolvency  when  they  undertook  the  publi- 
cation, and  the  Memoir  had  scarcely  been  published 
before  the  crash  came.  Notwithstanding  this  seri- 
ous blow,  the  book  had  some  circulation."  We  close 
this  comment  with  this  extract : 

We  are  naturally  led  to  inquire  by  what  habits  did  Mr.  Clop- 
ton  attain  to  such  distinction  and  usefulness  ?  He  was  not  less 
remarkable  for  the  peculiarity  and  steadiness  of  his  habits  than 
for  the  excellence  of  his  moral  character.  He  always,  when  in 
health,  rose  early,  generally  before  day.  He  retired  immediately 
to  read,  meditate  and  pray.  He  read  three  chapters  in  the  Bible 
— two  in  the  Old  Testament  and  one  in  the  New ;  generally  a 
sermon  in  Dwight's  Theology,  or  some  other  approved  author,  or 
an  equal  amount  in  Scott's  Commentary.  He  would  then  employ 
half  an  hour,  or  an  hour,  in  meditation  and  prayer.  As  he 
resided  in  the  country,  he  usually  retired  to  some  unfrequented 
and  retired  grove,  where  he  might  hold  uninterrupted  communion 
with  his  God.  Here,  in  imitation  of  his  Master,  he  would  "  offer 
up  prayers  and  supplications  with  strong  crying  and  tears." 
Sometimes  he  would  become  so  deeply  affected  by  divine  things, 
and  his  mind  would  be  so  entirely  absorbed  in  the  exercise  of 
prayer,  that  his  voice  might  be  heard  a  distance  of  four  hundred 
paces  wThcn  he  was  unconscious  of  speaking  above  his  breath.  A 
very  deep  impression  was  made  on  the  minds  of  many  by  the 
solemn  and  earnest  tones  of  his  suppliant  voice,  in  the  distant 
and  solitary  woodland.  It  seemed  as  if,  indeed,  a  worm  of  earth 
was  in  audience  with  the  majesty  of  the  universe.     After  the 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  353 

close  of  his  secret  devotion  he  would  return  to  his  room  to  make 
preparation  for  family  worship  and  breakfast.  He  was  plain,  but 
remarkably  neat  and  particular  in  his  dress  and  personal  appear- 
ance. In  the  family  in  which  he  resided,  and  in  the  numerous 
families  which  he  visited,  he  usually  led  in  the  stated  devotions. 
He  would  read  a  chapter  in  the  Bible,  offer  a  brief  comment  or 
make  a  pointed  exhortation  to  saints  and  sinners,  sing  a  few 
verses,  and  offer  a  short,  comprehensive,  appropriate  and  most 
fervent  prayer.  So  soon  as  he  had  eaten  a  temperate  meal  he 
would  commence  the  labors  of  the  day.  Every  moment  was 
usefully  employed.  No  man  understood  better  than  he  did  the 
art  of  redeeming  time.  If  he  remained  at  home  he  was  employed 
in  reading,  writing,  and  arranging  with  great  exactness  his 
numerous  concerns.  If  he  had  an  appointment  to  preach,  he 
would  ride  sometimes  twenty  miles  to  reach  it,  deliver  a  sermon 
of  an  hour's  length,  form,  if  necessary  and  practicable,  a  tract, 
temperance  or  missionary  society,  ride  again  several  miles  to 
dinner,  present  a  subscription  for  some  benevolent  object  to  the 
family,  discuss  the  merits  of  the  temperance  reform,  have  a  con- 
versation with  every  accessible  person  on  the  subject  of  religion, 
engage  in  social  prayer,  and  then  ride  many  miles  to  attend  a 
night  meeting,  or  be  near  his  next  appointment.  Nor  did  he 
forget  to  retire  for  evening  devotion.  I  have  not  detailed  the 
extraordinary  efforts  of  a  single  day,  but  the  common  course  of 
his  life.  Every  day,  when  he  enjoyed  health,  he  was  employed 
in  labors  not  less  diligent  and  useful.  His  habits  were  almost 
immovably  fixed.  The  inclemency  of  the  weather,  the  pleasures 
of  society,  which  he  greatly  relished,  fatigue,  languor,  and  the 
seductions  to  relaxation  and  rest,  rarely,  if  ever,  preventer!  his 
withdrawment  for  secret  prayer.  How  highly  he  prized  TJiese 
seasons  of  devotion  we  may  learn  from  the  following  brief  extract 
from  his  journal :  "  I  never  neglect  my  secret  devotion  (without 
absolute  necessity)  but  I  certainly  experience  great  loss.  My 
bosom  seems  more  exposed  to  the  incursions  of  the  enemy,  my 
resolutions  and  purposes  fail,  and  I  suffer  my  soul  to  be  stained 
by  evil  thoughts — perhaps  by  evil  desires.  Oh,  how  much  need 
I  have  of  the  injunction  of  my  blessed  Lord:  'Watch  and  pray, 
that  ye  enter  not  into  temptation ! ' " 

23 


354  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Mr.  Clopton  was  remarkably  absteminous  in  his  diet,  rarely 
eating  a  hearty  meal,  and  when  slightly  indisposed,  restricting 
himself  to  a  very  small  allowance.  He  fasted  religiously,  during 
the  latter  part  of  his  life,  on  every  Monday,  and  often  through 
the  whole  day.  In  March,  1831,  he  entered  the  following  on  his 
journal :  "  I  have  come  to  the  resolution,  humbly  and  in  the  fear 
of  the  Lord,  that  I  will  fast  more  frequently  and  pray  more  fre- 
quently. I  have  lost  much  by  neglecting  to  fast."  It  was  from 
this  period,  I  presume,  that  he  adopted  the  practice  of  fasting 
weekly. 

"  Life  of  Henrietta  Hall  Shuck." 

By  far  the  most  thrilling  and  fascinating  biogra- 
phy that  Dr.  Jeter  ever  wrote  was  his  "  Life  of  Mrs. 
Henrietta  Shuck."  As  a  wise  critic  has  aptly  said, 
"  the  theme  and  the  author  exactly  suited."  Mrs. 
Shuck  was  the  daughter  of  Rev.  Addison  Hall,  one 
of  the  noblest  friends  that  Dr.  Jeter  ever  had.  He 
baptized  her  in  her  girlhood  and  when  she  went  out 
as  a  missionary  to  China,  he  watched  her  career  with 
a  fond  paternal  pride.  On  the  foreign  field,  she  ex- 
hibited the  highest  Christian  heroism  and  her  name 
became  a  household  word  among  the  American  Bap- 
tists. She  died  at  her  post  in  the  meridian  of  her 
life  and  in  the  midst  of  her  usefulness.  A  halo  of 
peculiar  sanctity  and  glory  encircled  her  name,  and 
it  was  with  a  full  heart,  and  a  high  hope  of  useful- 
ness that  Dr.  Jeter  undertook  to  trace  the  story  of 
her  life. 

The  book  was  published  in  1845.  It  was  Dr.  Je- 
ter's masterpiece — a  gem  of  personal  history,  radiant 
with  the  beauty  of  its  subject  and  polished  to  the 
last  point  of  brilliancy  by  the  touch  of  his  graceful 
and  cunning  hand.     It  is  a  book,  too  noble  in  its 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  355 

theme  and  too  complete  in  its  workmanship  to  be  al- 
lowed to  pass  out  of  existence.  Here  is  the  portrait 
of  this  heroine  : 

In  person,  Mrs.  Shuck  was  below  the  ordinary  stature,  in  the 
highest  health  weighing  but  little  more  than  one  hundred  pound?, 
and  frequently  much  less.  Her  frame  was  delicate,  and  her  con- 
stitution fragile.  With  dark  complexion,  dark  and  piercing 
eyes  and  symmetrical  features,  she  was  somewhat  handsome. 
Her  temperament  was  ardent,  and  her  spirits  naturally  elastic, 
cheerful  and  gay.  For  nothing,  perhaps,  was  she  so  much  dis- 
tinguished as  the  affectionateness  of  her  disposition.  She  was  a 
lady  of  large  heart.  Never  have  we  known  a  more  devoted 
daughter,  a  more  faithful  sister  or  a  more  sympathizing  friend. 
She  always  won  the  hearts  of  her  associates.  Her  teachers,  class- 
mates and  acquaintances  all  loved  her.  She  cheerfully  paid  the 
price  of  friendship  ;  gained  friends  by  showing  herself  friendly. 

Mrs.  Shuck  possessed  not  a  brilliant,  but  good  intellect.  She 
was  not  endowed  with  genius,  but  with  a  well-balanced  mind. 
Among  her  mental  qualities,  quickness  of  apprehension  was  the 
most  remarkable.  Her  intellectual  efforts  seem  never  to  have 
cost  her  any  labor.  When  her  mind  was  set  in  motion,  her 
thoughts  and  words  flowed  spontaneously,  and  as  long  as  she 
had  use  for  them.  Her  letters  were  evidently  penned  with  rap- 
idity and  without  one  moment's  premeditation.  As  illustrative 
of  the  quickness  of  her  mental  operations,  we  may  mention  the 
following  case.  On  one  occasion  her  husband  complained  of 
weariness  and  an  incapacity  to  prepare  for  a  pulpit  service  which 
he  was  engaged  to  perform.  She  playfully  proposed  to  compose 
a  sermon  for  him.  Without  a  minute's  delay,  she  took  a  sheet 
of  paper  and  her  pencil,  and  having  selected  for  the  text  these 
words :  "  I  pray  thee  have  me  excused,"  began  the  sermon  as 
follows :  "  Numerous  as  are  the  excuses  which  sinners  make, 
when  urged  to  embrace  the  gospel,  they  may  all  be  reduced  to 
three.  The  first  is  that  they  have  no  time  to  attend  to  religion, 
the  second  is  that  they  do  not  know  how  to  become  religious, 
and  the  third  is  that  they  are  not  able  to  become  so.  Want  of 
time,  want  of  knowledge  or  want  of  power  is  pleaded  by  all. 


356  L^E  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Foreseeing  that  they  would  make  these  excuses,  God  determined 
that  they  should  have  no  reason  to  make  them.  By  giving  them 
the  Sabbath,  He  has  allowed  them  time  for  religion ;  by  giving 
them  His  word  and  messengers  to  explain  it,  he  has  taken  away 
their  excuse  of  ignorance,  and  by  offering  them  the  assistance  of 
His  Holy  Spirit,  He  has  deprived  them  of  the  pretence  of  inabil- 
ity ;  and  thus  He  has  obviated  all  their  excuses,  and  at  the  last 
day  every  mouth  will  be  stopped,  and  the  whole  world  stand 
guilty  before  God." 

The  above  is  a  literal  extract  from  Mrs.  Shuck's  notes  in  pen- 
cil-mark. She  continued  her  remarks  through  several  pages,  but 
in  such  a  style  as  to  show  clearly  that  she  did  not  excel  in  writing 
sermons.  We  know  not  how  much,  or  whether  at  all,  she  was 
aided  by  her  memory  in  preparing  the  above  synopsis  of  her 
sermon ;  but  we  are  quite  sure  that  we  have  heard  sermons  from 
preachers  of  reputation  whose  notes  could  not  lay  claim  to  origin- 
ality, simplicity  and  adaptation  to  usefulness,  as  those  of  Mrs. 
Shuck. 

Mrs.  Shuck's  literary  attainments  were  highly  respectable.  It 
should  be  remembered  that  she  died  at  an  age  at  which  most 
writers  do  not  begin  to  distinguish  themselves.  In  her  letters 
published  in  the  memoir,  the  compiler  felt  at  liberty  to  correct 
only  such  errors  as  were  obviously  the  result  of  haste  or  negli- 
gence. They  are  mostly  published  just  as  they  came  from  her 
swift-moving  pen. 

Mrs.  Shuck  was  eminently  a  religious  woman.  All  her  letters, 
her  journals  and  her  most  familiar  and  ordinary  notes  breathe  a 
pious  spirit.  Religion  exercised  a  controlling  influence  over  her 
life.  In  all  events,  whether  prosperous  or  adverse,  she  saw  and 
acknowledged  the  hand  of  Jehovah.  Whether  she  ate  or  drank, 
or  whatsoever  she  did,  all  was  done  for  the  glory  of  God.  One 
who  had  witnessed  in  the  beginning  of  her  Christian  life  the  fer- 
vency of  her  zeal  and  the  predominance  always  accorded  by  her 
to  religious  duties  and  interests,  would  have  been  ready,  even  in 
the  absence  of  consciousness,  to  pronounce  her  enthusiastic  and 
to  anticipate  a  great  change  in  her  spirit  and  deportment  after 
the  effervescence  of  youth  and  the  short-lived  ardor  of  her  novi- 
tiate had  passed  away.     But  he  would  have  been  utterly  mis- 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  357 

taken.  The  flame  of  her  zeal  was  fed  by  oil  which  an  invisible 
hand  had  furnished.  Let  the  candid  reader  contemplate  her 
through  years  of  exhausting  and  uncomplaining  toil,  in  suffer- 
ings various  and  acute,  without  murmuring  or  despondency,  sev- 
eral times  in  the  near  pi'ospect  of  death,  not  only  without  terror, 
but  buoyant  with  hope  and  full  of  joy,  always  cheerful,  devout 
and  seeking  to  glorify  God  and  decide  whether  her  religion  was 
not  more  than  form  and  ceremony,  the  romance  of  youth  and 
the  impulse  of  a  transient  excitement.  Her  religion  was  one  of 
principle.  It  subordinated  all  her  powers,  time  and  influence  to 
the  divine  will  and  glory. 

There  was  in  the  religious  character  of  Mrs.  Shuck  a  striking 
and  beautiful  symmetry.  In  her  character  there  was  a  happy 
combination  of  knowledge,  feeling  and  activity.  Her  knowledge 
did  not  degenerate  into  fruitless  speculation,  her  feeling  into  wild 
enthusiasm,  nor  her  activity  into  misdirected  adventures.  She 
was  zealous;  but  her  zeal  was  tempered  with  discretion.  She 
was  devout;  but  her  devotion  was  the  offspring  of  knowledge. 
She  was  useful ;  but  her  usefulness  was  coupled  with  humility. 
Whether  we  contemplate  her  as  a  lady  gracing  the  social  circle, 
as  a  mother  sedulously  training  her  children  for  heaven,  as  a 
Christian  meekly  and  faithfully  copying  the  bright  example  of 
her  Saviour,  or  as  a  missionary,  laboriously  fulfilling  the  duties 
of  her  important  station,  we  cannot  but  approve  and  admire  her 
character.  But  her  career  was  brief  and  bright,  her  end  peace- 
ful, and  her  reward,  we  doubt  not,  glorious.  The  Lord  took  her 
before  the  noon-tide  of  her  influence  and  usefulness,  and  we 
humbly  submit.  "  Shall  not  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth  do 
right?" 

"  Writings  of  Andrew  Broaddus,  with  a  Memoir 
by  J.  B.  Jeter,  D.D." 

This  was  published  by  Lewis  Colby,  of  New  York, 
and  had  upon  it  the  imprint  of  the  Virginia  Baptist 
Sunday-School  and  Publishing  Society.  It  appeared 
in  1850  and  contained  five  hundred  and  fifty-seven 
pages.     It  seems  that  Dr.  Jeter  really  had  nothing 


358  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

to  do  in  the  production  of  this  book  except  the  prep- 
aration of  the  memoir.  The  bulk  of  the  material 
consists  in  selections  from  the  waitings  of  Mr.  Broad- 
dus  and  these  were  collected  and  edited  by  his  son, 
Rev.  Andrew  Broaddus,  Jr. 

The  editor  did  his  work  remarkably  well,  though 
it  is  not  forgotten  that  he  incurred  severe,  though 
unmerited,  criticism  for  what  was  then  regarded  as 
undue  liberty  in  eulogizing  his  distinguished  father. 

Candor  forbids  my  speaking  in  terms  of  undivided 
commendation  of  Dr.  Jeter's  part  in  this  work.  It 
is  not  well  done — not  so  well  as  he  could  do  and  did 
do  in  his  other  biographical  works.  He  had  truly 
an  imperial  subject.  Andrew  Broaddus  stands  to- 
day as  he  stood  then,  peerless  and  unapproachable 
in  the  lists  of  Virginia  Baptist  preachers.  He  was  a 
man  of  kingly  form,  surpassingly  brilliant  genius 
and  of  the  very  loftiest  type  of  oratory.  With  only 
nine  months  of  school  life  and  with  other  serious 
drawbacks,  he  rose  to  the  highest  distinction  and  his 
name  is  indissolubly  associated  with  Baptist  history. 
I  agree  fully  with  Mr.  Sands  that  with  such  a  topic 
Dr.  Jeter,  then  at  the  high  tide  of  his  power,  ought  to 
have  produced  a  nobler  memoir,  and  Mr.  Broaddus, 
as  Mr.  Sands  suggests,  deserves  a  biographer  who 
will  present  him  to  the  world  in  all  the  splendor  of 
his  powers  and  the  glory  of  his  fame. 

Several  things  must  be  said  on  Dr.  Jeter's  side. 
This  book  was  published  in  1850,  just  after  his  re- 
moval to  St.  Louis,  and  it  is  probable  that  his  sketch 
was  prepared  in  the  midst  of  the  confusion  incident 
to  that  trying  change  in  his  life.     His  work  was  done 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  359 

upon  short  notice,  and  without  an  opportunity  for 
collecting  material,  and  maturely  finishing  the  story. 
Besides  it  must  be  said  that  the  limits  of  the  work 
gave  him  but  narrow  scope.  His  sketch  covers  only 
sixty-five  pages,  and  is  all  condensed  into  a  single 
chapter.  It  attempts  nothing,  except  a  simple  re- 
cital of  the  leading  facts,  in  a  not  very  eventful  life 
and  an  outline  of  the  character  of  Mr.  Broaddus. 
His  picture  of  the  great  preacher  is  drawn  with  a 
strong  and  faithful  pen. 

'•'  Such,  imperfectly  sketched,  it  is  true,  were  the  sermons  of 
Andrew  Broaddus ;  but  how  can  we  give  any  conception  of  his 
manner  of  preaching?  We  can  no  more  give  an  adequate  idea 
of  eloquence  by  description,  than  of  lightning  by  painting.  We 
first  enjoyed  the  pleasure  of  hearing  him  in  1823.  He  was  then 
in  the  meridian  of  his  glory.  We  had  heard  his  fame,  and  were 
anxious  to  have  an  opportunity  of  judging  whether  rumor  had 
done  him  justice.  We  were  prepared  to  hear  an  eloquent  and 
mighty  preacher ;  but  all  our  anticipations  were  more  than  real- 
ized. We  had  formed  no  adequate  conception  of  his  power  to 
interest  and  instruct  his  hearers.  We  could  but  exclaim  with 
the  astonished  Queen  of  Sheba,  when  she  saw  the  wisdom  and 
glory  of  Solomon  :  "  It  is  a  true  report  that  I  heard  in  mine  own 
land,  and,  behold,  the  half  was  not  told  me."  This  early  im- 
pression of  his  abilities  was  sustained  by  an  intimate  and  long- 
continued  acquaintance  with  him,  at  a  period  when  our  judgment, 
being  more  matured,  was  less  likely  to  mislead  us. 

His  fine  person  increased  the  effect  of  his  discourses ;  it  was 
formed  to  command  respect.  His  countenance  was  radiant  with 
intelligence,  and  his  clear,  speaking  eyes  seemed  to  penetrate 
the  souls  of  his  hearers.  His  sermons  were  generally  delivered 
with  great  pathos — with  a  holy  unction.  His  heart  was  in  his 
subject;  its  truth,  importance  and  solemnity  were  deeply  im- 
pressed upon  it.  His  manner  of  speaking,  however,  was  far 
enough  from  declamation.     He  commenced  his  sermons  in  the 


360  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

most  easy,  artless  and  unpretending  way,  inspiring  no  high- 
wrought  expectation ;  but  suddenly  some  brilliant  thought,  or 
some  melting  touch,  would  make  the  hearer  feel  that  he  was  in 
the  presence  of  a  master.  His  voice,  before  it  was  shattered  by 
age,  was  clear,  flexible,  euphonious,  under  perfect  control,  but 
never  strong  and  commanding.  His  eloquence  resembled  not 
the  mountain  torrent,  bold,  resistless  and  majestic ;  but  the 
champaign  stream,  gentle,  beautiful  and  refreshing.  His  ges- 
tures were  easy,  natural  and  graceful,  giving  impression  to  all 
his  utterances.  His  chief  excellence  as  a  public  speaker  lay  in 
his  action.  In  some  of  his  gestures  there  was  a  significance  and 
power  which  were  inimitable. 

Were  we  required  to  describe  the  power  of  his  oratory  by  a 
single  term,  that  term  should  be  fascination.  There  was,  in  his 
happy  efforts,  a  most  captivating  charm.  An  incident  may  best 
illustrate  this  remark  :  More  than  twenty  years  ago,  while  in  the 
zenith  of  his  power  and  popularity,  he  attended  a  session  of  the 
Baptist  General  Association,  held  in  the  town  of  L .  Mon- 
day morning  he  preached  in  the  Methodist  Church,  to  a  crowded 
audience.  Mr.  D.,  a  lawyer  of  distinction,  on  his  Avay  to  the 
court-house,  where  the  court  was  in  session,  stopped  in  the  street, 
beneath  the  fierce  rays  of  a  summer  sun,  to  listen  for  a  moment 
to  the  sermon.  Business  urged  his  departure,  but  having  heard 
the  commencement  of  a  paragraph,  he  was  intensely  anxious  to 
hear  its  close.  Intending  every  moment  to  break  away,  he  be- 
came more  and  more  chained  to  the  spot.  Presently  he  heard 
his  name  called  by  the  sheriff  at  the  court-house  door,  and  he 
soon  heard  the  call  repeated  ;  but  it  was  to  no  purpose — he  was 
riveted  to  the  spot.  Neither  the  fatigue  of  standing,  the  melting 
rays  of  the  sun,  the  urgency  of  business  nor  the  repeated  calls  of 
the  officer  of  the  court  could  disenchant  him.  He  heard  the 
whole  of  the  sermon,  and  paid  unwittingly  the  highest  compli- 
ment to  the  eloquence  of  the  preacher.  We  remember  a  similar 
incident :  A  minister,  whose  thoughts  were  absorbed  in  a  subject 
deeply  affecting  his  happiness,  heard  him  preach,  and  at  the 
close  of  the  sermon  was  aroused  from  the  spell  in  which  he  had 
been  bound,  amazed  that  his  thoughts  had  been  so  long  and  so 
perfectly  diverted. 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  361 

Great  as  he  undoubtedly  was,  he  had  some  rather  striking 
defects  in  his  preaching.  He  was  fastidious.  He  rarely  lost 
himself  in  his  subject.  He  did  not  forget  to  pay  attention  to 
precision,  and  all  the  graces  of  composition.  He  frequently 
wasted  time  on  subordinate  points,  and  in  preparatory  remarks. 
An  incident  will  best  illustrate  our  meaning :  In  his  neighborhood 
resided  an  old  and  pious,  but  somwhat  eccentric  brother, 
known  as  "  Father  Schools  " — a  man  remarkable  for  the  bluntness 
of  his  remarks.  He  was  a  great  admirer  of  Mr.  Broaddus' 
preaching.  On  one  occasion,  after  listening  to  his  sermon,  he 
said  to  him,  "  You  were  so  long  to-day  setting  the  table,  and 
fixing  the  plates  and  knives  and  forks,  that  we  got  tired  waiting 
for  the  dinner."  Elder  Broaddus  was  very  easily  disconcerted 
in  preaching.  If  the  weather  was  too  hot  or  too  cold  ;  the  pulpit 
too  high  or  too  low  ;  or  if  the  congregation  was  not  arranged  to 
his  taste,  he  was  greatly  embarrassed.  On  a  certain  occasion  he 
had  an  appointment  to  preach  at  a  private  house.  The  congre- 
gation was  seated ;  a  table,  with  books,  had  been  set  for  him ;  the 
hour  for  preaching  had  arrived.  He  stepped  to  the  table,  and, 
carefully  measuring  its  height,  said :  "  Brother  B.,  this  table  is 
too  low;  can't  you  lay  something  on  it?"  It  was  not  easy  at  the 
moment  to  find  something  suited  to  the  purpose ;  but,  after  some 
delay,  a  box  was  brought  and  placed  on  the  table.  Its  height 
was  again  nicely  measured,  and  the  preacher  said :  "  Brother  B., 
this  box  is  too  high  ;  can't  you  find  something  of  a  medium 
height?"  By  this  time  the  congregation  was  in  a  titter,  and 
Brother  B.  greatly  confused.  It  was,  however,  of  no  small  im- 
portance that  the  table  should  be  of  the  proper  height,  for  it  was 
vain  to  expect  a  good  sermon  if  it  was  too  high  or  too  low. 

Owing  to  his  nervous  sensibility,  he  was  peculiarly  liable,  es- 
pecially on  great  occasions,  or  before  intelligent  strangers,  to  fail 
in  preaching.  His  failures,  however,  were  generally  well  worth 
hearing.  They  were  wanting  in  vivacity,  illustration  and  color- 
ing, but  they  exhibited  the  outlines  of  well-arranged  and  valuable 
sermons.  We  remember  one  of  his  failures.  He  was  appointed, 
with  two  other  ministers,  to  preach  at  the  Dover  Association,  in 
Matthews  County,  on  Lord's  Day.  The  congregation  was  large ; 
and,  as  usual  on  such  occasions,  seated  under  an  arbor  ;  but  the 


362  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

weather  was  extremely  unpropitious.  Mr.  Broaddus  positively 
refused  to  preach.  The  first  sermon  was  delivered  early,  and  was 
not  well  heard.  The  second  sermon  was  an  almost  entire  failure, 
and  soon  over.  Aroused  by  an  unwillingness  to  permit  so  large 
and  respectful  a  congregation  to  disperse  without  instruction,  Mr. 
Broaddus  suddenly  resolved  to  preach.  He  commenced  with  a 
long  apology — a  practice  for  which,  in  violation  of  good  taste,  he 
was  quite  remarkable.  He  read  his  text — it  was  a  theme  just  suited 
to  his  talents.  His  exordium  was  fine,  and  his  arrangement  was 
natural  and  striking.  Never  did  a  commencement  promise  a 
richer  sermon.  The  congregation  was  all  eyes  and  ears.  The 
speaker  gave  us  some  of  his  finest  flights,  but  soon  his  pinions 
began  to  fail.  He  stopped  suddenly,  saying :  "  Brethren,  I  find 
I  am  not  in  such  good  preaching  case  as  I  thought  I  was."  After 
a  few  ineffectual  struggles,  he  quietly  resumed  his  seat.  Of  that 
vast  congregation,  there  was  but  one  person  who  enjoyed  the 
failure — it  was  the  unfortunate  preacher  who  had  preceded  Mr. 
Broaddus,  and  who,  painfully  mortified  by  his  own  failure,  found 
some  consolation  in  having  so  distinguished  a  companion  in 
misery. 

In  order  that  our  readers  may  have  a  still  clearer  conception 
of  the  preaching  of  the  subject  of  this  memoir,  we  will  compare 
it  with  that  of  Semple,  Rice  and  Staughton.  Semple  was  a 
sound,  practical  preacher ;  anxious  mainly  for  the  results  of  his 
ministry,  he  was  careless  in  his  manner,  bungling  in  his  style 
and  frequently  loose  in  his  arrangements.  Rice  possessed  a  mas- 
culine intellect,  and  sometimes  preached  with  great  power  and 
sublimity  ;  but  his  migratory  manner  of  living  precluded  the 
possibility  of  a  careful  preparation  for  the  pulpit,  and,  conse- 
quently, his  sermons  were,  for  the  most  part,  dry,  tame,  and 
greatly  wanting  in  variety.  He  possessed  the  unimproved,  or, 
perhaps,  more  properly,  the  unemployed  elements  of  a  mighty 
preacher.  Staughton,  judging  from  his  reputation,  for  we  never 
enjoyed  the  pleasure  of  hearing  him,  was  fervent,  rapid  in  de- 
livery, abounding  in  excellent  matter,  not  well  digested  nor  well 
arranged.  Now,  Broaddus  was,  as  a  preacher,  less  practical  than 
Semple,  less  sublime  than  Rice,  and  less  impassioned  than  Staugh- 
ton ;  but  he  was  more  methodical,  more  accurate,  more  elegant, 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  363 

more  attractive,  and  far  more  safe  as  an  expositor  of  Scripture,  than 
any  one  of  them.  They  all  excelled  in  certain  strongly  developed 
qualities,  which  rendered  them  eminent  and  acceptable  preachers  ; 
but  Broaddus  possessed  a  combination  of  noble  qualities,  a  well- 
balanced  and  richly  furnished  intellect,  with  all  the  personal  en- 
dowments requisite  for  the  most  pleasing  delivery  of  his  sermons. 
We  have  enjoyed  frequent  opportunities  of  hearing  many  of  the 
best  preachers  of  most  of  the  evangelical  denominations  of  this 
country,  and  occasionally  some  of  the  distinguished  ministers  of 
Great  Britain,  and  we  can  confidently  say,  that  in  his  happiest 
efforts,  none  of  them  equaled  him  in  the  exposition  of  the  Scrip- 
tures. Excelled  he  might  have  been,  and  perhaps  was,  in  sub- 
limity of  thought,  strength  of  language  and  studied  accuracy  of 
method  ;  but  in  clearness,  aptness  of  illustration,  spontaneous 
beauty,  touching  pathos  and  Scriptural  instruction,  he  had  no 
superior. 

Many  years  ago,  in  a  sermon  at  the  Dover  Association,  he  pro- 
duced a  thrilling  effect,  by  comparing  the  departed  ministers  of 
the  Association  to  a  band  of  musicians.  Ford,  Noell,  Lunsford, 
Staughton,  Toler,  Courtney  and  others  were  skillfully  arranged 
in  the  band,  according  to  their  various  gifts :  one  sounded  the 
silver  trumpet,  another  played  on  the  viol,  a  third  on  the  bassoon 
and  so  on.  They  made  fine  music.  Their  enrapturing  notes 
were  all  in  harmony,  and  Jesus  was  the  subject  of  their  song  ; 
but  now  their  instruments  were  untuned  and  thrown  aside.  Such 
is  an  imperfect  sketch  of  the  vision  which  Mr.  Broaddus  caused 
to  pass  vividly  before  the  minds  of  his  hearers.  The  reminis- 
cences awoke  the  sympathies  of  the  old  brethren.  They  had 
listened  to  the  stirring  strains  of  these  venerated  musicians  of  a 
past  age,  and  derived  an  impulse  and  an  inspiration  from  them 
which  they  could  never  cease  to  feel.  Their  eyes  brightened, 
and  then  their  faces  were  suffused  in  tears  ;  and  all  the  congrega- 
tion felt  in  unison  with  them.  Had  Mr.  Broaddus  himself  been 
assigned  a  place  in  the  band,  his  appropriate  instrument  would 
have  been  the  flute.  Others  might  sound  the  shrill  notes  of  the 
clarion,  or  draw  with  skillful  hand  from  the  violin's  rich  and 
varied  notes  ;  but  he,  with  more  than  mortal  inspiration,  from 
his  favorite  instrument,  would  have  poured  forth  tones  of  softest, 


364  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

sweetest  melody.  But  now  his  instrument  is  laid  aside,  and  none 
is  found,  with  equal  skill,  to  call  forth  its  celestial  notes  !  But 
these  worthies  are  furnished  in  Heaven  with  better  instruments : 

"  Strung  and  tuned  for  endless  years, 
And  formed  by  power  Divine." 

With  these  they  celebrate  in  "  sweeter,  nobler  strains,"  the 
glories  of  that  Redeemer  whom  on  earth  they  loved,  adored  and 
praised,  and  by  whose  grace  they  triumphed  over  sin,  death  and 
hell. 

"  Campbellism  Examined." 

This  book  was  given  to  the  public  in  1855.  It 
ranks  all  his  publications  in  size,  ability  and  influ- 
ence. The  time  at  which  it  appeared,  the  popular 
interest  in  the  subject  of  which  it  treated,  the  labored 
attempts  made  to  break  its  force  and  the  furious 
attacks  made  upon  its  author  by  his  opponents,  com- 
bined to  enhance  its  circulation.  While  I  cannot 
give  the  number  of  volumes  actually  sold,  it  is  well 
known  that  it  was  extensively  read  by  representative 
men,  and  was  also  popular  with  the  masses. 

It  may  be  well  to  explain  to  the  younger  readers 
how  it  came  to  pass  that  Dr.  Jeter,  so  averse  to 
religious  controversy  and  so  conciliatory  in  his 
temper,  joined  battle  with  Alexander  Campbell. 
Mr.  Campbell  was  a  Scotchman,  and  belonged  origi- 
nally to  one  of  the  straitest  sects  of  Presbyterians. 
He  was  educated  at  the  University  of.  Glasgow,  and 
was  a  man  of  varied  gifts  and  of  a  peculiar  type  of 
magnetism.  He  was  remarkable,  more  for  the  activ- 
ity than  for  the  clearness  of  his  mind,  and  far  more 
for  the  diversity,  than  for  the  accuracy  of  his  knowl- 
edge.    Reared  among  the  Scotch  Seceders,  he  seemed 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  365 

to  have  the  essence  of  discontent  and  revolt  in  his 
constitution.  In  early  life  he  broke  from  the  Pres- 
byterian ranks  and  became  a  Baptist — in  name  at 
least.  He  gained  a  pleasing  notoriety  by  his  con- 
troversy on  Baptism  with  a  Mr.  McCalla,  a  Presby- 
terian minister,  and  his  advent  into  the  Baptist  fold 
was  hailed  with  pleasure.  He  won  brief  distinction 
among  his  newly-found  brethren  by  his  showy  oratory, 
his  adroitness  as  a  debater  and  his  slashing  and  de- 
nunciatory style  as  a  writer.  It  was  soon  found, 
however,  that  he  was  reckless  in  his  statements,  con- 
tradictory in  his  arguments,  uncertain  in  his  theology 
and  happy  only  when  seeking  to  uproot  the  existing 
order  of  things.  His  gift  for  destroying  far  exceeded 
his  ability  to  construct.  Insidiously  and  persistently 
he  sowed  the  seeds  of  discord  among  the  Baptists 
until  many  ministers  were  disaffected,  and  not  a  few 
of  the  churches  were  racked  with  dissension.  Noisy 
and  unsettled  people  were  crying  for  reformation. 
The  Baptist  camp  was  thrown  into  disorder.  Efforts 
to  eliminate  the  restless  and  jarring  elements  were 
only  partially  successful. 

In  this  crisis  of  affairs  it  was  generally  felt  that 
some  more  formal  and  elaborate  measures  ought  to 
be  adopted  for  counteracting  the  baleful  and  disinte- 
grating influence  of  Mr.  Campbell.  In  1852  a  num- 
ber of  well-known  men  in  various  portions  of  the 
country,  becoming  deeply  impressed  with  the  import- 
ance of  a  succinct  and  popular  treatise  upon  the 
distinctive  phases  of  Campbellism,  requested  Dr. 
Jeter  to  prepare  a  work  of  the  character  described. 
Among  the  signers  of  the  petition  appear  the  names 


366  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

of  M.  B.  Anderson;  Heman  Lincoln,  S.  S.  Cutting. 
Edward  Lathrop,  Geo.  W.  Samson,  A.  D.  Gillette,  S. 
F.  Smith  and  others.  The  appeal  made  mention  of 
the  clearness  of  thought,  justice  of  view  and  candor 
of  spirit  which  had  marked  the  Doctor's  discussion 
of  Campbellism  in  his  "  Memoir  of  Broaddus."  It 
might  have  been  added  that  he  had  known  Mr. 
Campbell  intimately  for  a  quarter  of  a  century,  and 
was  conversant  with  his  temper,  tactics,  mental  pe- 
culiarities and  doctrines,  so  far  as  he  had  any.  Dr. 
Jeter,  after  due  consideration,  undertook  the  work  in 
a  spirit  which  is  sufficiently  indicated  by  the  follow- 
ing extract  from  the  preface  to  his  book : 

The  term  "  Campbellism  "  is  used  in  this  treatise,  not  as  a  term 
of  reproach,  but  of  distinction.  No  other  word  denotes  the 
system  which  it  is  proposed  to  examine.  Mr.  Alexander  Camp- 
bell, of  Bethany,  Virginia,  and  the  party  embracing  his  views, 
have  assumed  several  appellations.  They  have  styled  themselves 
" Reformers,"  " Christians  "  and  "Disciples."  Without  discuss- 
ing their  exclusive  claim  to  these  titles,  it  is  clear  that  from 
neither  of  them  can  any  term  be  derived  which  will  fairly  dis- 
tinguish their  system  of  doctrine.  The  word  "  Reformation  "  has 
been  appropriated,  by  common  consent  to  denote  that  great  moral 
revolution,  of  which  Luther  and  Calvin  were  the  prime  agents. 
The  term  "  Christianity"  can  never  be  wrested  from  its  universally 
established  import,  to  express  the  views  of  any  sect  or  party, 
however  good,  wise  or  great.  From  the  word  "  Disciple,"  indefi- 
nite as  an  appellative,  no  term  can  be  derived  to  signify  the 
views  of  those  who  adopt  the  name.  Mr.  Campbell  claims  to 
have  discovered  the  "Ancient  Gospel."  Without  at  this  time 
conceding  or  denying  the  equity  of  his  claim,  it  may  be  observed 
that  the  inquiries  now  to  be  made  have  reference  not  to  the 
"Ancient  Gospel,"  recorded  in  the  writings  of  the  evangelists 
and  apostles,  but  to  the  speculations  of  Mr.  Campbell,  contained 
in  his  voluminous  works  concerning  this  gospel,  and  which  have 
been  received  as  true  by  the  friends  of  the  "Current  Reforma- 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  36J 

tion."  To  call  these  speculations  the  "  Ancient  Gospel  "  would 
be  a  manifest  misnomer.  I  am  then  under  the  necessity  of  em- 
ploying some  indefinite  term,  a  tedious  circumlocution,  or  the 
word  "  Campbellism  "  to  denote  the  system  under  discussion,  and 
the  last  course  seems  preferable. 

This  system  is  with  great  propriety  termed  "  Campbellism." 
Systems  of  philosophy,  science  and  religion  have  usually  been 
designated  after  their  discoverers,  first  promulgators,  or  most  dis- 
tinguished advocates.  Mr.  Campbell  is  the  author,  and  most 
eminent  proclaimer  of  the  peculiar  doctrines,  which,  within  the 
last  thirty  years,  have  spread  in  the  Southern  and  Western 
States,  uuder  the  title  of  "The  Reformation.''  No  other  man 
has  added  an  article  to  the  system,  subtracted  one  from  it,  or 
materially  modified  it.  Many  truths  are  taught  by  Mr.  Camp- 
bell in  common  with  other  Christians ;  very  few  of  the  principles 
for  which  he  pleads  are  strictly  new ;  but  having  revived,  modi- 
fied, and  placed  in  new  combinations  some  antiquated  sentiments, 
and  added  to  them  a  few  original  speculations,  he  is  fairly  enti- 
tled to  all  the  honor,  and  obnoxious  to  all  the  censure  which  his 
system  merits. 

My  purpose  is  to  furnish  a  faithful  delineation  of  the  system — 
its  principles,  spirit  and  influence — to  censure  the  evil,  and  com- 
mend the  good. 

Of  my  fitness  for  the  task  the  reader  will  judge  by  the  manner 
of  its  execution.  I  have  enjoyed  very  fair  opportunities  of 
forming  correct  opinions  of  Mr.  Campbell's  system.  I  first  saw 
him  in  the  year  1825.  Since  that  time  I  have  been  a  careful 
observer  of  his  course.  I  have  watched  the  gradual  development 
of  his  principles,  and  marked  their  influence  on  the  churches.  I 
have  read  most  that  has  been  published  by  him  and  his  opponents 
on  the  various  points  in  debate.  I  have  conversed  much  with 
persons  embracing  and  zealously  supporting  the  "  Reformation." 

It  is  my  purpose  to  conduct  this  investigation  in  the  spirit  of 
candor  and  fairness,  knowing  that  nothing  can  be  gained  to  the 
cause  of  truth  and  righteousness  by  sophistry,  misrepresentation 
and  detraction.  No  sentence  incompatible  with  the  claims  of 
justice  and  Christian  courtesy  shall  intentionally  escape  my  pen  ; 
nor  shall  I  withhold  a  frank  and  faithful  expression  of  my 
opinions  on  all  points  which  I  deem  important. 


368  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

This  work  gave  great  offence  to  Mr.  Campbell  and 
his  friends,  and  they  attacked  it  with  an  almost  vin- 
dictive fury.  Through  the  columns  of  the  Millennial 
Harbinger,  Mr.  Campbell  undertook  to  make  a  reply, 
promising  in  the  outset  that  he  would  speedily  and 
utterly  refute  its  arguments.  After  publishing  a 
number  of  papers  intended  to  upset  the  statements 
and  belittle  the  author  of  "  Campbellism  Examined," 
he  announced  that  he  would  make  a  more  stately 
reply  in  the  shape  of  a  book.  That  book  never  ap- 
peared, though,  curiously  enough,  an  Introduction  to 
it  appeared  in  the  Harbinger, 

After  some  delay,  Dr.  Jeter  reviewed  Mr.  Camp- 
bell's review  of  his  book,  in  an  extensive  pamphlet, 
entitled  "  Campbellism  Re-examined."  To  this,  Mr. 
Campbell  never  deigned  to  make  a  reply ;  but  a 
review  of  Dr.  Jeter's  two  works  was  written  by  Mr. 
Moses  E.  Lard,  of  Missouri,  who  came  forth  as  Mr. 
Campbell's  substitute.  Dr.  Jeter  said  of  Mr.  Lard, 
that  he  was  more  discriminating,  more  methodical, 
more  straightforward,  more  vigorous  and  more  un- 
disguised in  his  statements,  but  less  adroit  than 
Mr.  Campbell.  Incomprehensibility  was  Mr.  Camp- 
bell's strong  point ;  but  Mr.  Lard  wrote  with  a  plain- 
ness which  it  was  hard  to  misunderstand.  He  set 
forth  Campbellism  in  its  baldest  and  most  offensive 
shapes,  and  enabled  the  public  to  see  clearly  the 
points  of  divergence  between  the  Baptists  and  the 
followers  of  Mr.  Campbell. 

Dr.  Jeter  declined  to  make  any  reply  to  Mr.  Lard. 
Having  joined  issue  with  the  head  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, he  did  not  care  to  deal  with  one  of  its  }routhful 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  369 

adherents.  Mr.  Lard's  book  was  so  bitter  in  its 
personalities,  and  so  harsh  in  its  epithets,  that  Dr. 
Jeter  confessed  that  he  could  not  cope  with  him  in 
the  use  of  such  weapons. 

In  1860,  Rev.  A.  P.  Williams,  of  Missouri,  a  Bap- 
tist minister  of  the  most  superior  abilities,  published 
a  book  in  answer  to  Mr.  Lard.  It  was  a  masterly 
production,  and  Dr.  Jeter  pronounced  it,  as  beyond 
all  question,  the  strongest  contribution  ever  made  to 
the  great  controversy.  For  this  book  of  Mr.  Wil- 
liams, Dr.  Jeter  wrote  an  Introduction,  which  was 
one  of  the  brightest  emanations  of  his  pen,  and 
which  I  much  regret  a  lack  of  space  constrains  me  to 
omit  from  these  pages. 

Dr.  Jeter  always  took  the  kindliest  views  of  the 
so-called  Reformation  of  Mr.  Campbell.  He  admitted 
that  the  Baptists  had  derived  some  benefit  from  the 
agitation  which  Mr.  Campbell  had  introduced,  and 
he  was  always  ready  to  recognize  whatever  was 
scriptural  and  wise  in  the  system  of  the  Reformers. 
He  felt,  however,  that  what  was  true  in  Campbellism 
was  not  new,  and  what  was  new  was  not  true,  and, 
therefore,  he  held  that  Mr.  Campbell's  claims  as  a  Re- 
former were  not  well  founded.  He  hoped  that  in 
time  his  followers  would  lay  aside  their  prejudices  and 
return  to  the  Baptist  fold. 

Soon  after  the  war  a  conference  was  held  in  Rich- 
mond by  leading  representatives  of  the  Baptists  and 
Reformers  to  see  whether  or  not  a  reunion  could  be 
effected.  With  this  movement  Dr.  Jeter  warmly 
sympathized,  and  took  a  kindly  part  in  the  council. 
It  proved  to  be  a  failure.  The  points  of  disagree- 
24 


370  LIFE  0F  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

ment  were  found  to  be  too  numerous  and  sharp  to 
admit  of  a  peaceful  and  profitable  coalescence. 

I  now  present  the  following  extract  from  his 
"  Recollections/'  in  which  he  gives  his  estimate  of 
him  and  of  his  last  interview  with  him : 

Mr.  Campbell  was  a  man  of  learning,  of  much  miscellaneous 
information,  and  of  great  readiness  and  fecundity  of  mind.  His 
learning,  as  already  stated,  was  various  rather  than  profound ; 
and  his  imaginative  far  exceeded  his  rationative  power.  There 
was,  in  my  humble  judgment,  a  screw  loose  in  his  mental 
machinery,  which  became  more  obvious  as  he  grew  older,  and 
terminated  in  downright  monomania.  No  writer,  within  my 
knowledge,  ever  repeated  his  thoughts  so  frequently,  wrote  so 
much  that  needed  explanation,  or  so  glaringly  and  often  contra- 
dicted himself,  as  he  did.  This  is  all  explicable  on  the  supposi- 
tion that  he  labored  under  an  idiosyncrasy  which  was  gradually 
developed  into  mental  derangement.  This  supposition,  too,  vin- 
dicates him  in  making  statements  which  could  hardly  have  been 
made  by  a  sound  and  well-balanced  mind,  without  guilt.  With 
this  ground  of  defence,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  expressing  the 
opinion  that  he  was  a  good  man.  His  life  was  devoted  to  an 
earnest  and  fearless  advocacy  of  principles  which,  in  the  main, 
were  right.  The  supreme  and  exclusive  authority  of  the  Scrip- 
tures in  religion,  immersion  the  only  baptism,  and  believers  the 
only  subjects  of  the  ordinance,  and  church  independence,  are 
important  doctrines  which  he  held  in  common  with  Baptists,  and 
most  solemnly  defended.  He  wrote,  too,  many  valuable  articles 
on  matters  of  faith  and  practice,  along,  we  must  think,  with 
much  that  was  visionary  and  erratic.  With  the  exception  of 
statements  easily  traced  to  a  disordered  imagination,  his  life  was 
pure,  and  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  principles  he  espoused  and 
spent  his  long  life  in  defending. 

The  "  Disciples "  held  a  meeting  in  Richmond  some  twenty 
years  ago,  and  Mr.  Campbell  was  present.  I  expressed  to  some 
of  his  friends  my  readiness  to  call  on  him  as  a  matter  of  courtesy, 
if  the  call  would  be  agreeable  to  him.     Receiving  the  assurance 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  37 1 

that  the  courtesy  would  be  accepted  with  pleasure,  I  visited  him 
at  his  lodgings,  in  company  with  Dr.  J.  L.  Burrows.  We  were 
received  with  civility,  but  with  evident  restraint.  He  was  greatly 
changed  in  appearance  since  I  first  saw  him.  He  was  increased 
in  flesh,  but  bore  the  unmistakable  marks  of  old  age  and  grow- 
ing infirmities.  I  had  resolved  that  I  would  not  refer  to  our  past 
controversies,  or  to  points  concerning  which  we  differed ;  but 
that,  if  he  should  introduce  them,  I  would  not  plead  on  the 
defensive.  He  very  soon  alluded  to  these  matters.  His  views, 
he  said,  had  been  misunderstood  and  misrepresented.  He  had 
been  treated  with  great  injustice.  To  these  complaints  I  made  no 
reply ;  but  proceeded  at  once  to  say  that  he  had  propagated  one 
doctrine  which  he  owed  it  to  himself,  to  his  friends,  and  to  the 
Christian  world  to  correct — it  is  that  baptism  and  regeneration 
in  the  Scriptures  mean  the  same  thiDg.  On  this  subject  our  con- 
versation turned.  He  did  not  retract  the  statement,  but  offered 
such  explanation  of  it  as  may  be  found  in  his  voluminous  writings. 
It  is,  in  substance,  that  baptism  is  not  the  whole,  but  the  finish- 
ing act  of  regeneration — that  there  can  be  no  regeneration  with- 
out baptism.  His  explanation  was  as  unsatisfactory  to  me  as  my 
criticisms  were  to  him.  With  this  discussion  we  closed  our  inter- 
view, with  due  courtesy  without  cordiality. 

The  influence  of  "  Campbellisra  Examined "  in 
Virginia  was  profound  and  abiding.  It  struck  the 
Reformation  a  blow  from  which  it  has  never  recov- 
ered. The  Disciples  have  not  multiplied  in  Virginia 
since  that  day,  and  those  that  survive  are  of  the 
conservative  rather  than  the  controversial  type. 
They  are  good  people,  but  not  numerous  and  not 
likely  to  be. 

That  Campbellism  has  not  fulfilled  the  expecta- 
tion of  its  friends  may  be  safely  inferred  if  the  testi- 
mony of  Mr.  Moses  E.  Lard,  one  of  its  most  partisan 
adherents,  may  be  relied  on.  Here  is  what  he  said 
on  that  subject  not  long  before  he  died  : 


372  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

"  We,  as  a  religious  body,  have  been  before  the  public,  with  our 
plea  of  union,  for  nearly  half  a  century.  We  have  offered  Christ 
and  Him  only  as  a  personal  ground  of  union  ;  we  have  offered 
the  Bible  and  it  only  as  the  book  basis ;  we  have  pithily  said, 
when  it  speaks  we  must  speak,  and  when  it  is  silent  we  must  be 
silent ;  and  what  have  we  achieved  in  the  way  of  union  ? 

Without  replying  specially  to  the  question,  we  have  certainly 
achieved  no  large,  and  consequently  no  very  satisfactory,  results. 
I  will  not  say  that  our  plea  is  a  failure,  but,  up  to  the  present, 
it  has  resulted  as  most  other  pleas  have — it  has  failed  to  effect 
union.  Have  we  united  even  the  great  family  of  immersionists  ? 
We  have  not." 

"  Life  of  Daniel  Witt,  D.D." 

This  was  his  last  book,  and  he  once  said  of  it  that 
it  really  was  his  best,  though  he  could  not  make 
the  people  believe  it.  It  was  published  in  187G,  but 
never  enjoyed  any  extensive  circulation,  though  this 
was  probably  due  in  part  to  the  fact  that  there  were 
no  arrangements  for  pushing  its  sale.  It  contained 
two  hundred  and  seventy-six  pages,  and  was  largely 
a  compilation.  The  autobiography  of  Dr.  Witt,  one 
of  the  most  exquisitely  beautiful  stories  ever  writ- 
ten, covers  ninety  pages,  and  extracts  from  his  diary 
and  private  letters  occupy  much  of  the  space. 

I  do  not  agree  with  Dr.  Jeter  that  this  is  his  best 
book.  As  a  tribute  to  a  life-long  friend,  it  is  very 
charming ;  but  I  suspect  that  the  Doctor's  desire  to 
avoid  anything  like  gushing  demonstrations  gave  a 
tameness  to  his  style  which  was  unnatural  and 
robbed  the  story  of  a  warmth  which  would  have 
colored  it  with  a  higher  beauty. 

But,  after  all,  one  cannot  read  the  book  without 
a  deepened    reverence  for  Christian  friendships  or 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  373 

without  feeling  instinctively  drawn  to  the  venerable 
author  and  his  sainted  subject. 

I  can  spare  space  for  only  one  paragraph  clipped 
from  the  chapter  in  which  he  paints  the  character 
of  his  beloved : 

Of  all  the  active  men  whom  I  have  known,  Dr.  Witt  was  the 
most  fau/tless.  It  is  not  difficult  to  find  persons  comparatively 
hlameless.  Their  character  is  negative.  Their  nature  is  inert ; 
their  dispositions  are  flexible,  and  their  convictions  are  shallow. 
They  give  no  offence,  because  they  neither  do  nor  attempt  to  do 
anything  in  opposition  to  the  views  or  wishes  of  their  associates. 
They  create  no  ripple  on  the  surface  of  society,  because  they 
float  with  the  current.  Dr.  Witt  did  not  belong  to  this  class  of 
men.  He  was  an  earnest  and  diligent  worker.  His  love  of 
truth  and  righteousness  was  decided ;  his  hatred  of  sin  and  error 
was  deep  and  influential,  and  all  his  utterances  and  all  his  works 
were  controlled  by  these  feelings.  Proof  on  this  point  was  fur- 
nished by  one  of  his  dying  remarks :  "  My  life,"  he  said,  "  has 
given  no  uncertain  sound.  I  have  testified  for  Jesus.  I  have 
loved  all  that  is  good,  and  I  have  tried  to  do  good."  He  made 
no  compromises  with  evil,  and  shunned  not  to  declare  the  whole 
counsel  of  God;  and  yet  so  kind  was  his  heart,  so  bland  was  his 
manner  and  so  unselfish  was  his  aim  that  he  rarely  gave  offence, 
and  when  he  did,  the  offended  carried  in  their  consciences  the 
evidence  that  he  was  right.  His  discretion  was  almost  perfect. 
Who  ever  saw  him  do  an  unrighteous  or  undignified  deed,  or 
heard  him  utter  an  unkind,  discourteous  or  impure  word?  He 
could  have  confidently  said  with  Paul:  "I  have  wronged  no 
man ;  I  have  corrupted  no  man  ;  I  have  defrauded  no  man." 
(1  Cor.  7 :  2.)  For  fifty  years  I  knew  him  as  intimately  as  ever 
one  man  knew  another,  and  I  have  no  recollection  that  he  ever 
did  or  said  aught,  or  displayed  any  feelings,  for  which  the  most 
rigid  moralist  could  have  reproved  him. 


374  life  of  jeremiah  b.  jeter,  d.d. 

"The  Christian  Mirror." 

This  work  appeared  in  1858,  and  was  published 
by  Sheldon,  Lamport  &  Blakeman,  of  New  York. 
It  contains  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  pages,  has 
an  Introduction  by  Dr.  A.  M.  Poindexter,  and  is 
dedicated,  in  terms  of  great  tenderness,  to  Dr.  Dan- 
iel Witt. 

The  plan  of  this  volume  is  unique.  It  is  a  series 
of  lectures  on  the  virtues  and  frailties  of  Christian 
people,  and  each  lecture  is  illustrated  with  a  pen- 
picture.  For  example,  one  of  the  lectures  is  devoted 
to  Doubting  Christians,  and  Brother  Thomas  Little- 
Faith  is  vividly  drawn  as  a  fair  specimen  of  this 
class.  These  lectures  were  first  delivered  in  his 
own  pulpit,  then  published  in  a  periodical,  and  af- 
terwards brought  out  in  book-form. 

Each  chapter  contains  a  topical  discussion  and  a 
delineated  character.  The  discussions  are  simple, 
orderly  and  instructive.  They  are  of  an  intensely 
practical  type, — so  scriptural  and  devout  that  they 
cannot  be  read  without  benefit.  His  portraits  are 
the  work  of  his  memory  as  well  as  of  his  imagina- 
tion. The  names  of  his  characters  are,  of  course, 
fictitious,  and  he  has  shown  decided  vigor  and  taste 
in  grouping  his  incidents.  But  most  of  his  charac- 
ters are,  in  the  main,  historical.  He  throws  into 
print  men  whom  he  had  seen  playing  their  part  in 
real  life.  His  pictures  are  drawn  with  a  fidelity 
which  is  tempered  with  a  loving  and  charitable 
spirit.  Nothing  written  by  Dr.  Jeter  more  forcibly 
illustrates   his  own   character  than   these   lectures. 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  375 

They  show  him  as  he  was  in  his  candor,  discrimina- 
tion and  kindness  of  soul,  blended  with  a  manly 
and  earnest  loyalty  to  the  truth.  This  is  a  delight- 
ful book.  It  is  a  pleasant  and  refreshing  plea  for 
holiness.  It  is  distinct  in  its  defence  of  virtue  and 
right,  and  equally  emphatic  in  condemning  vices 
and  faults.  For  home  reading  and  Sunday-school 
libraries,  this  book  is  admirably  adapted.  It  merits  a 
republication,  and  ought  to  have  a  permanent  place 
in  Christian  literature.  Here  is  one  of  the  pictures, 
— not  the  best,  but  selected  because  of  its  brevity, 
and  taken  from  his  lecture  on  timid  Christians : 

A  Christian  of  this  class,  with  -whom  I  am  well  acquainted 
and  whom  I  sincerely  love,  I  will  introduce  to  the  congrega- 
tion,— Brother  Faint-heart.  He  is  naturally  amiable,  and  grace 
has  made  him  pious.  It  would  be  strange  if  he  had  many  ene- 
mies, for  he  is  surely  one  of  the  most  inoffensive  of  men.  If  he 
had  suspected  that  he  had  wounded  the  feelings  of  a  brother  in 
the  most  innocent  manner,  it  would  cost  him  a  sleepless  night. 
So  guarded  is  he  against  inflicting  pain  that  he  would  carefully 
turn  out  of  his  path  to  avoid  crushing  a  worm.  Few  men  are 
more  esteemed  and  loved  than  he,  and  less  likely  to  bring  re- 
proach on  the  cause  of  Christ. 

Brother  Faint-heart  feels  a  deep  interest  in  the  prosperity  of 
the  church  of  which  he  is  a  member,  earnestly  prays  for  it  and 
sincerely  rejoices  in  all  the  good  which  others  do,  but  makes 
very  little  effort  to  be  useful  himself.  The  reason  is  this:  he 
sees  insuperable  difficulties  and  appalling  dangers  in  every  good 
enterprise.  He  saith  with  the  slothful  man :  "  There  is  a  lion 
without ;  I  shall  be  slain  in  the  streets."  Propose  to  him  any 
scheme  for  promoting  the  welfare  of  the  Church,  extending  the 
knowledge  of  Christ  or  mitigating  human  misery,  and  he  is 
almost  sure  to  be  pleased  with  it.  The  object  is  good,  the  plan 
to  secure  it  is  good,  the  agents  to  be  employed  are  good ;  but  the 
scheme  he  perceives  or  fancies  is,  from  some  cause,  impractica- 


376  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

ble.  Its  friends  will  be  few  and  lukewarm ;  somebody's  feelings 
may  be  wounded  by  the  enterprise  or  at  least  he  is  not  satisfied 
that  everybody  will  approve  it,  and  he  would  at  present  prefer 
to  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  He  is  slow  to  engage  in  any 
good  work,  tardy  in  executing  it,  and  quickly  faints  at  discour- 
agement. 

Brother  Faint-heart  is  proverbial  for  having  no  mind  of  his 
own.  Not  that  he  is  incapable  of  judging,  for  he  possesses  an 
intellect  of  rather  more  than  ordinary  clearness ;  but  he  is  afraid 
to  trust  his  own  judgment.  If  he  errs,  he  would  greatly  prefer 
to  lay  the  blame  on  the  shoulders  of  another,  than  to  bear  it 
himself.  It  might  be  reasonably  supposed  that  he  would  look 
around  him  for  some  leader  on  whose  judgment  he  would  repose 
confidence,  and  whose  authority  might  release  him  from  the 
painful  necessity  of  forming  opinions  for  himself.  Such  a  leader 
it  was  not  difficult  for  him  to  find.  Deacon  Obstinate  is  a 
prominent  member  of  the  church  to  which  Faint-heart  belongs. 
In  character  they  differ  widely.  Obstinate  is  self-confident, 
bold,  unyielding  and  overbearing ;  has  frequently  points  which 
he  is  anxious  to  carry  in  the  Church,  and  which  he  would  carry 
at  any  sacrifice,  and  is  constantly  seeking  to  attach  to  himself 
and  his  plans  such  members  of  the  Church  as  he  can  influence. 
Brother  Faint-heart  was  a  suitable  man  for  his  purpose.  He 
visited  him,  talked  much  with  him,  and  soon  enjoyed  the  pleas- 
ure of  numbering  him  among  his  adherents.  Faint-heart  is  a 
man  of  more  discernment  and  information  than  the  Deacon ;  but 
what  the  latter  lacks  in  judgment,  he  makes  up  in  strength  of 
will.  In  order  to  know  how  Faint-heart  will  vote  in  any  case, 
it  is  necessary  to  watch  the  movements  of  Deacon  Obstinate. 
However  unreasonable  and  perverse  the  course  advocated  by 
the  Deacon,  he  is  sure  to  support  it;  or  if  his  conscience — he  has 
a  tender  conscience — will  not  allow  him  to  do  so,  he  frames  some 
excuse  for  staying  away  from  the  church-meeting,  that  he  may 
give  no  offence  to  his  friend.  This  subserviency  of  the  brother 
to  the  views  of  the  headstrong  Deacon  would  render  him  un- 
popular, did  the  brethren  not  know  his  weakness  and  did  he  not 
possess  so  many  amiable  and  redeeming  traits  of  character. 

I  have  already  intimated  that  Brother  Faint-heart  has  few 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  377 

enemies.  On  one  occasion,  however,  his  want  of  courage  involved 
him  in  serious  difficulties.  In  private  conversation  he  had  been 
led  into  some  severe  but  just  remarks  concerning  a  profession 
not  very  reputable.  A  member  of  the  profession,  hearing  of  the 
remarks,  called  on  him  in  an  angry  tone,  and,  with  menacing 
looks,  demanded  to  know  whether  he  had  uttered  such  remarks. 
He  remembered  and  approved  them,  and  the  public  would  have 
sustained  him  in  proclaiming  them ;  but  the  poor  man  was 
frightened  out  of  his  senses,  equivocated  and  made  concessions 
derogatory  to  his  character.  This  unmanly  course  involved  him 
in  fresh  difficulties  with  those  who  would  have  firmly  sustained 
him  in  a  frank,  bold  and  honorable  course.  Throughout  his 
painful  embarrassments  it  was  apparent  that  his  difficulties  arose 
from  lack  of  courage  to  speak  and  act  according  to  the  dictates 
of  his  own  conscience. 

"The  Seal  of  Heaven." 

This  appeared  in  1871.  It  was  published  by  the 
American  Tract  Society,  and  in  a  style  by  no  means 
attractive.  It  contains  200  pages,  and,  while  well 
printed,  is  of  uncouth  shape,  and  of  a  binding  so  dull 
as  to  be  a  weariness  to  the  eyes. 

Dr.  Jeter  enjoyed  peculiarly  the  preparation  of 
this  work,  and  it  bears  upon  itself  the  imprint  of  his 
trained  and  devout  mind.  It  is  intended  to  show 
the  adaptation  of  the  gospel  to  human  wants,  and 
the  sufficiency  of  Christian  evidences.  It  is  written 
in  his  clearest  and  most  fascinating  style.  It  is  filled 
with  the  marrow  of  the  gospel,  rich  in  experimental 
truth,  and  well-suited  to  edify  and  comfort  the  saints 
of  God. 

Perhaps  two  remarks  in  the  way  of  adverse  criti- 
cism ought  to  be  made  respecting  this  book.  It  was 
unluckily  named.     He  requested  several  friends,  my- 


378  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

self  among  the  number,  to  aid  him  in  selecting  a 
name ;  but,  while  acquainted  with  the  contents  of 
the  book,  we  were  not  able  to  hit  upon  a  title  which 
seemed  satisfactory.  The  name  was  of  his  own 
choosing,  and  yet  he  did  not  like  it.  Besides  this, 
the  discussion  was  not  exhaustive.  It  touched  great 
questions  without  answering  them.  It  ought  to  have 
been  either  simpler  in  its  line  of  thought,  or  more 
elaborate  and  profound  in.  its  discussions.  His  ge- 
nius, culture  and  deep  religious  experience  fitted 
him  well  for  producing  a  great  work  on  Christian 
evidences.  The  world  is  a  loser  by  his  failure  to 
write  it. 

We  have  now  finished  the  list  of  his  more  ex- 
tended publications.  Nothing  that  I  can  say  will 
give  the  reader  an  adequate  idea  of  the  amount  of 
literary  work  which  he  performed  during  his  public 
life.  For  more  than  a  half-century  he  was  tugging 
away  with  his  pen,  writing  sermons,  reviews,  con- 
troversial articles,  literary  addresses,  magazine  arti- 
cles, circulars,  open  letters,  tracts  and  indeed  every- 
thing except  poetry.  Poetry  he  could  not  write. 
He  tried  it  often,  but  always  without  success.  He 
said  that  he  could  write  one  line  of  poetry  admirably 
well,  but  that  he  never  could  make  any  headway  on 
the  second  line. 

In  company  with  Dr.  Richard  Fuller,  he  compiled 
the  Psalmist,  which,  it  is  hardly  invidious  to  say,  was 
one  of  the  choicest  collections  of  hymns  that  was 
ever  given  to  the  American  Baptist  public.  How 
much  Dr.  Jeter  had  to  do  with  the  planning  of  the 
book,  or  in  the  selection  of  the  hymns,  I  have  not 


ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  AUTHORSHIP.  379 

been  able  to  ascertain.     Whatever  he  undertook  was 
quite  sure  to  receive  his  most  careful  attention. 

Rev.  H.  A.  Tupper,  Jr.,  of  Kentucky,  has  kindly 
furnished  me  with  the  following  list  which  Dr.  Jeter 
made  of  his  works,  and  which  he  desired  to  have 
collected,  revised  and  preserved.  I  insert  the  paper 
just  as  it  came  from  his  own  hands  : 

WORKS  OF  J.  B.  JETER,  TO  BE  COLLECTED, 
REVISED  AND  PRESERVED. 

SERMONS. 

"  Education  of  the  Ministry  "  (1  Tim.  iii.  3).  First  published 
Sermon.     Pamphlet. 

"  Theatrical  Amusements  "  (1  Thess.  v.  22).     Pamphlet. 

"  Beneficence  "  (Acts  xx.  35).  Preached  before  the  General 
Association.     Baptist  Preacher. 

"  The  Faithful  Ministry  "  (2  Tim.  iv.  5).  Preached  before  the 
Dover  Association.     Religious  Herald. 

"Christian  Circumspection  "  (Eph.  v.  15).     Pamphlet. 

"Gambling"  (Rom.  xii  9).     Baptist  Preacher. 

"  Funeral  of  Jno.  Kerr  "  (Dan.  xii.  3).     Baptist  Preacher. 

"Funeral  of  Rev.  Wm.  Leftwich"  (Heb.  xi.  4).  Baptist 
Preacher. 

"  Funeral  of  Jas.  Leftwich  "  (Rev.  ii.  10).     Bajytist  Preacher. 

"  Funeral  of  A.  Broaddus  "  (Acts  xiii  36).    Baptist  Preacher. 

"Brazen  Serpent  a  type  of  Christ"  (John  iii.  14,  15).  In  a 
Northern  Periodical. 

"  Defence  of  the  Truth  "  (Jude  3).  Preached  before  General 
Association.     Religious  Herald. 

"Heedfulness  of  the  Ministry"  (Col.  iv.  17).  Preached  before 
S.  B.  Theo.  Sem.     Religious  Herald. 

"  Lotteries  "  (text  not  remembered).     A  Manuscript. 

"  Historical  Sermon  of  the  First  Baptist  Church,  Richmond  " 
(Deut.  viii.  2).     Manuscript. 

"  Historical  Sermon  of  the  General  Association  "  (Deut.  viii.  2). 
Manuscript. 

"  Funeral  of  Luther  Rice  "  (Matt.  x.  28-30).     Manuscript. 


380  LIF£  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETEE,  D.D. 

TRACTS. 

"  Justification."     S.  B.  Pub.  Society. 
"  Vindication  of  Baptists."     S.  B.  P.  Society. 
"  A  Mother's  Parting  Words  to  her  Soldier  Boy."    Published 
during  the  war.     Very  useful. 
"  Profane  Swearing."     Do.     Do. 
"Communion."     By  the  Am.  Bap.  Publication  Society. 

BOOKS. 

"  Memoir  of  Rev.  A.  W.  Clopton." 

"Life  of  Mrs.  Hen.  Shuck." 

"Life  of  Rev.  A.  Broaddus." 

"Campbellism  Examined." 

"Campbellism  Re-examined." 

"  The  (Christian)  Mirror." 

"  The  Seal  (of  Heaven)." 

"Distinctive  Baptist  Principles."     Scrap-Book. 

"  Recollections  of  a  Long  Life."     Scrap-Book. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

Defence  of  Southern  Baptists  in  "withdrawing  from  the  Trien- 
nial Convention.      Christian  Review. 

About  forty-five  editorials  selected  from  the  Herald  on  various 
topics,  including  many  biographical  notices. 

Defences  of  Baptist  Principles,  etc. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

IN  THE  EDITOEIAL  CHAIR. 

THE  Religious  Herald  was  established  in  February, 
1828.  It  was  called  into  existence  by  the  spirit 
of  organization,  which  had  then  just  taken  pos- 
session of  the  Virginia  Baptists,  and,  in  turn,  became 
a  grand  factor  in  promoting  denominational  unity. 
Its  founder  was  William  Sands,  by  birth  an  'English- 
man, a  decided  Baptist,  and  a  quiet,  modest  Christian 
gentleman.  He  was  small  of  stature,  quaint  in 
manner,  and,  while  skilled  as  a  practical  printer,  had 
no  editorial  experience,  and  was  utterly  lacking  in 
popular  magnetism.  At  first,  the  paper  was  diminu- 
tive in  size,  inferior  in  material,  and  limited  in 
patronage.  But  for  the  economy  of  its  proprietor, 
and  the  gratuitous  aid  of  his  brethren,  it  could  hardly 
have   maintained    its   existence.*      In   its   interest 

*  The  honor  of  founding  the  Religious  Herald  really  belongs  to  William 
Crane.  He  was  a  wise  and  influential  Baptist  in  Richmond,  and  an  earnest 
advocate  of  denominational  unity.  To  secure  this  he  felt  that  a  vehicle  of 
communication  was  indispensable.  With  this  view,  he  persuaded  Mr.  Sands, 
then  a  resident  of  Baltimore,  to  come  to  Richmond  and  start  a  paper.  He 
not  only  furnished  the  money  to  purchase  its  outfit,  but  contributed,  with  un- 
stinted liberality,  to  its  continued  support.  Mr.  Crane  was  really  the  founder 
of  the  Religious  Herald.  A  leading  Baptist  once  said  that  our  denomination 
in  Virginia,  owed  more  to  William  Sands  and  Dr.  Robert  Ryland  than  to  any 
other  two  men.  Dr.  Jeter  said  that  he  could  not  undertake  to  deny  the  truth 
of  the  encomiastic  remark,  but  that  justice  required  that,  in  honoring  these 
brethren,  we  should  not  deprive  William  Crane  of  the  honor  of  having  given 
to  the  Virginia  Baptists,  a  religious  journal. 

381 


382  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

James  B.  Taylor  made  several  expeditions  through 
Virginia,  and  secured  hundreds  of  subscribers.  Bro. 
Sands  retained  the  proprietorship  of  the  paper,  until 
the  end  of  the  war,  though  he  had  associated  with 
him,  at  different  times,  Henry  Keeling,  Eli  Ball, 
David  Shaver  and  others.  As  an  editor,  Mr.  Sands 
was  painstaking,  accurate  and  diligent,  but  not  in 
the  least  brilliant. 

He  had,  however,  several  things  in  his  favor.  In 
Mr.  Crane  he  had  a  generous  and  judicious  adviser. 
He  was  also  himself  a  singularly  prudent  man.  He 
made  very  few  mistakes. 

The  leading  Baptist  men  of  the  State  stood  by 
him.  They  regarded  his  paper,  as  well-nigh  invalu- 
able, as  an  organ  of  communication.  They  worked 
for  its  circulation,  and  contributed  to  its  columns 
most  cordially  and  without  charge.  In  Semple, 
Broaddus,  Rice,  Clopton,  Taylor,  Howell,  Jeter, 
Poindexter  and  others,  the  Herald  had  a  truly  royal 
corps  of  contributors.  They  were  men  of  might, 
and  wrote  with  a  leisurely  care  and  a  ripened  pre- 
cision which  gave  immense  vigor  to  their  articles. 

It  is  also  due  to  Mr.  Sands  to  say  that  he  was 
expert  in  the  use  of  his  scissors.  He  had  a  simple 
desire  to  dispense  to  his  readers,  the  best  and  choicest 
matter,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  clip  from  contemporar  y 
journals.  Abating  the  fact,  that  he  would  load  h  js 
paper,  sometimes  with  Gubernatorial  and  Presidential 
messages,  and  many-columned  articles  of  the  con- 
troversial or  exegetical  sort,  the  Herald  attained  , 
under  Mr.  Sands'  management,  a  high  standard.  In 
variety,  piquancy  and  brilliancy,  it  fell  short  of  the 
distinction  which  it  has  since  won. 


IN  THE  EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  383 

A  few  years  before  the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War, 
Dr.  Shaver,  pronounced  by  some  one  the  Robert 
Hall  of  America,  became  the  leading  editor  of  the 
paper.  He  was  a  fertile  and  racy  writer,  and  very 
popular  with  the  more  cultivated  portion  of  his 
readers. 

In  the  memorable  conflagration  which,  in  April, 
1865,  reduced  one-third  of  Richmond  to  ashes,  the 
office  of  the  Religious  Herald,  with  its  fixtures  and 
records,  was  totally  destroyed.  The  wreck  was 
complete,  and  Sands  and  Shaver  were  unable  to 
resuscitate  it. 

In  the  autumn  of  1865,  Dr.  Jeter  and  Rev.  A.  E. 
Dickinson  formed  a  partnership,  and  purchased  the 
paper.  There  was  really  nothing  to  purchase,  except 
the  name,  subscription-list  and  good-will.  They 
began  regularly  its  publication  in  Noyember,  1865. 
Dr.  Dickinson  speedily  proved  himself,  a  superior  can- 
vasser, a  brilliant  paragraphist,  and  an  expert  in  at- 
tracting to  the  paper,  popular  and  entertaining  con- 
tributors. He  was  strong  in  some  points,  in  which 
Dr.  Jeter  was  weak,  and  they  well  complemented 
each  other,  in  their  associated  work.  Their  connec- 
tion continued  to  the  end  of  Dr.  Jeter's  life,  and  the 
paper  has  been  published,  ever  since,  under  the  firm- 
name,  then  adopted. 

In  the  first  issue  of  the  paper,  Dr.  Jeter  wrote  a 
brief  salutatory,  as  senior  editor,  in  which  he  gave 
in  detail,  some  of  the  reasons  which  prompted  him, 
at  so  late  a  time  in  life,  to  enter  a  new  and  untried 
sphere  of  labor.  He  stated  that  it  had  been  a  cher- 
ished purpose  with  him  to  devote  his  later  years  to 


384  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

authorship.     As  that  wish  was  denied,  he  adopted 
editorial  life,  as  the  next  best  thing. 

In  some  respects,  Dr.  Jeter  was  not  suited  for 
journalistic  life.  He  lacked  practical  skill.  He 
was  not  a  business  man,  and  had  no  experience  as  a 
journalist.  This  he  knew,  and  from  the  first  insisted 
upon  having  a  business  manager  whom  he  could 
implicitly  trust.  He  sometimes  said  that  he  was 
constrained  to  trust  his  manager  so  blindly,  that  he 
could  easily  mismanage  the  affairs  of  the  office,  if  he 
chose  to  do  so.  But,  after  all,  he  was  not  indifferent 
to  the  business  department  of  the  paper.  He 
watched  it  with  honest  scrutiny,  and,  if  aught  went 
awry,  he  was  quick  to  detect  it.  His  rectitude  of 
purpose  and  fine  common  sense  helped  him  every- 
where. 

He  never  knew  how  to  push  the  circulation  of  the 
paper.  It  was  impossible  for  him  to  explore  the 
country  in  quest  of  subscribers.  His  main  idea  was 
to  make  the  paper  so  good,  that  the  people  could  not 
afford,  not  to  take  it.  A  good  idea  truly,  and  yet  in 
these  harsh,  commercial  times,  not  sufficient  of  itself, 
to  insure  the  largest  circulation  of  a  religious  news- 
paper. It  was  amusing  to  observe  him,  at  a  district 
association,  in  his  clumsy  attempts  to  represent  the 
Herald.  On  the  value  of  a  religious  newspaper,  he 
could  speak  admirably,  but  when  he  came  down  to 
the  matter  of  soliciting  or  receiving  subscriptions,  he 
was  lamentably  awkward  and  helpless.  By  the 
fame  of  his  pen,  he  added  many  names  to  his  list, 
but  by  personal  appeals,  he  won  very  few. 

He  was  also  of  little  worth  in  the  news  depart- 


IN   THE  EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  385 

ment  of  the  paper.  He  did  not  know  how  to  report  a 
meeting,  or  how  to  gather  up  the  odds  and  ends  of 
things  and  mould  them  into  bright  and  taking  para- 
graphs. If  he  made  a  journey,  he  could  write  an 
interesting  account  of  it;  or  if  he  went  to  a  con- 
vention, he  could  cast,  into  readable  shape,  his 
impressions.  If  a  good  man  died,  he  could  indite  a 
graceful  tribute  to  his  memory.  He  lacked,  however, 
that  taste  for  the  piquant,  sensational  and  pleasing 
which  is  so  valuable  in  adding  zest  and  freshness  to 
a  newspaper.     He  was  not  a  reporter. 

But  he  was  an  editor.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  he  was  nearly  sixty-four,  when  he  entered  the 
field  of  journalism.  He  suffered  inconvenience  from 
lack  of  that  sharpened  skill  which  is  the  product  of 
long  experience.  It  is  possible,  too,  that  he  had  lost 
that  freshness  of  fancy  and  exuberant  sympathy 
with  the  times,  which  would  have  enhanced  his 
attractiveness  to  the  young.  But  it  is  not  too  much 
to  say,  that  he  became  eminent  in  the  profession  of 
his  old  age.  No  man,  perhaps,  of  the  present 
generation,  in  the  Baptist  ranks  at  least,  has  attain- 
ed more  commanding  influence  in  the  newspaper 
world.  This  is  said,  not  in  empty  extravagance  and 
in  no  invidious  spirit.  The  statement  is  amply 
justified  by  his  editorial  history.  Only  a  brief 
mention  can  be  made  of  his  characteristics  as  a 
journalist. 

His    discretion    was    masterly.     He    knew   what 

ought  not  to  go  into  a  religious  newspaper.     He  had, 

to  use  a  journalist's  homely  phrase,  "the  genuine 

editorial  gumption."     He  was  a  forbearing  critic  and 
25 


386  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

had  an  amiable  desire  to  gratify  his  contributors,  but 
his   convictions   of  right   would   not   allow   him   to 
publish     articles    that   were     irreverent,   wantonly 
heretical    or   uncharitable.     He    did   not  allow  the 
commercial    aspects   of  the   paper   to   override   his 
christian  sense  of  propriety.     He  edited  his  paper 
for  the  glory  of  God.     He  often  gave  offense  by  re- 
jecting offensive  communications.     Not  that  he  ex- 
cluded all  articles  with  whose  views  he  did  not  agree. 
On  one  point  he  was  always  generous — that  is,  in 
opening  his  columns  to  those  who  wished  to  combat 
his   peculiar   opinions.     He  believed  in   discussion, 
when  kept  within  proper  limits.      But  he  recognized 
his  responsibility  for  what  was  said,  in  his  paper  by 
other  men.     He  did  not  hesitate  to  exclude  the  pro- 
ductions of  his  best  friends,  if  he  believed  that  they 
were  false  to  good  taste,  or  hurtful  to   the   truth. 
When  he  published  articles,  involving  statements  at 
variance    with    his    own    convictions,    he    usually 
appended    a   note,  disavowing   his    sympathy   with 
them.     He  once  said,  that  if  his  readers  could  know 
how  much  he  kept  out  of  his  paper,  they  would  for- 
give him,  for  sometimes  admitting  matter  of  doubt- 
ful propriety.     It  is  due  to  him  to  say  that,  under 
his  administration,  the  Religious  Herald  was  remark- 
able  for   its   cleanness,  dignity   and    devoutness   of 
tone. 

He  exercised  a  paternal  discrimination  over  the 
matter  which  went  into  his  paper.  He  edited  it, 
with  the  best  literary  and  critical  taste.  He  would 
sometimes  so  amend,  recast  and  burnish  the  intel- 
lectual offsprings  of  his  brethren  that  when    they 


IN  THE  EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  387 

appeared  in  their  new  garb,  not  even  their  doting 
parents  could  easily  recognize  them. 

Dr.  Jeter  knew  what  a  religious  paper  ought  to 
be.  He  estimated  its  scope  and  purpose  with 
surpassing  discrimination.  He  possessed  the  grace 
and  tact  of  holding  the  Herald,  strictly  to  its  appro- 
priate line.  The  truth  of  this  statement  could  be 
amply  illustrated,  if  we  had  space  for  that  purpose. 
He  struck  the  happy  mean  between  the  heavy  and 
the  trivial.  He  did  not  load  his  paper  with  dull 
and  learned  lumber,  which  belonged  more  appropri- 
ately to  reviews,  nor  did  he  crowd  into  it  the  chaffy, 
sensational  stuff  which  some  editors  fancy  to  be 
essential  to  the  success  of  their  journals.  He  de- 
spised claptrap  in  everything,  and  always  avoided 
high-sounding  captions  or  exciting  introductions  to 
the  matter  which  went  into  the  paper  under  his 
direction.  He  imparted  his  own  quiet  and  self- 
respecting  dignity  to  the  Herald,  until  the  public 
came  to  feel,  that  they  saw  him,  week  by  week,  in  its 
columns.  The  highest  charm  of  the  paper,  under 
his  administration  was  his  serene  and  saintly 
personality,  which  so  thoroughly  pervaded  it. 

His  skill  was  equally  manifest  in  preserving  the 
proper  religious  tone  of  the  paper.  Its  religious 
character  stood  out  in  happy  relief.  Not  that  he 
restricted  it  to  a  gushing  pietism — a  conglomeration 
of  sacred  rhyme  Bible  stories  or  revival  items ;  but 
he  never  allowed  the  paper  to  drift  away  into 
secularism.  He  would  admit  the  discussion  of 
philosophical,  historical,  scientific  or  political 
questions,  so  far  as  they  had  to  do  with  the  gospel. 


388  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

He  also  provided  itemized  secular  news,  for  the 
benefit  of  those  readers  who  did  not  see  other  papers. 
But  he  made  his  paper  emphatically  religious. 

An  interesting  chapter  might  be  written  on  the 
scope  of  his  personal  contributions  to  the  paper.  He 
dealt  with  a  great  variety  of  topics — rarely  touching 
one  of  doubtful  propriety,  and  yet  often  select- 
ing those  which  it  was  exceedingly  difficult  to  handle 
with  delicacy.  That  the  reader  may  appreciate  the 
force  of  this  remark,  I  will  mention  that  in  a  random 
glance  through  the  Herald's  file  for  the  year  of  1878. 
I  found  the  following  topics  of  his  leading  editorials 
— A  Call  to  the  Ministry  ;  Religious  Controversy ; 
Ministerial  Courtesy ;  "  A  Miracle  in  Stone,  or  the 
Great  Pyramid  of  Egypt ;"  Agrarianism ;  Relative 
Duties  of  the  Rich  and  Poor,  and  Pastoral  Benev- 
olence. 

He  was  peculiarly  felicitous  in  discussing  the 
religious  aspects  of  what  seemed  to  be  purely  secular 
questions.  He  saw  everything  in  its  relations  to 
Christ,  and  I  think  his  highest  function  as  an  editor 
was,  in  so  clearing  misty  and  obscure  questions,  as  to 
make  them  intelligible  to  the  common  mind. 

I  introduce  here  a  part  of  his  editorial  on  the  State 
debt.  It  appeared  in  1878,  at  the  time  that  Virginia 
was  sorely  agitated  by  the  threat  of  certain  leading 
politicians  to  precipitate  the  repudiation  of  Virginia's 
debt.  The  Legislature  was  in  session  at  the  time, 
and  the  article  attracted  great  attention.  It  is  a 
fine  specimen  of  his  skill,  vigor  and  candor  as  a 
writer. 


IN  THE  EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  389 


THE   STATE   DEBT — SHALL   IT    BE    PAID   OR   REPUDIATED? 

This  subject  falls  fairly  within  the  scope  of  religious  journalism. 
With  its  political,  or  party  aspects,  we  have  no  concern  ;  but  in  its 
moral  bearing  we  have,  in  common  with  our  fellow-citizens,  a  pro- 
found interest.  Public  and  private  morality  cannot  be  dissociated. 
Public  is  only  the  aggregate  of  individual  morality.  There  can  be 
but  little  private,  where  tbere  is  no  public  virtue.  The  payment  of 
just  debts  is  required,  not  only  by  sound  ethics,  but  by  divine  reve- 
lation. "  Owe  no  man  anything"  is  an  inspired  precept,  which  does 
not  forbid  the  contracting  of  debts,  but  does  most  solemnly  enjoin 
the  payment  of  them.  We  shall,  therefore,  with  all  candor  and  free- 
dom, discuss  the  subject  of  our  State  debt,  but  simply  in  its  moral 
aspects. 

Had  the  State  been  free  to  act  at  the  close  of  the  war,  we  readily 
concede  that  a  strong,  at  least  a  plausible,  argument  in  favor  of  the 
reduction  of  her  debt  might  have  been  presented.  Her  territory  had 
been  largely  desolated,  one-third  of  it  wrested  from  her  possession, 
and  a  great  portion  of  her  taxable  property,  on  the  basis  of  which  her 
debt  was  contracted,  had  been  destroyed  by  the  fortune  of  war.  The 
State,  however,  overthrown  and  prostrated,  could  make  no  arrange- 
ment for  the  settlement  of  her  debt.  When  she  was  rehabitated  her 
representatives,  acting  under  the  Constitution  and  the  sanction  of 
their  oath,  assumed  such  portion  of  the  public  debt  as  they  deemed  it 
just  and  proper  to  pay.  Whether  their  course  was  wise  or  unwise  it 
is  needless  to  discuss.  If  it  was  not  obligator)',  then  no  act  of  the 
present  or  of  any  future  Legislature  can  be  binding,  for  they  must 
act  under  the  same  Constitution  and  with  the  same  authority  as  the 
Legislature  that  assumed  the  debt.  We  have  not,  indeed,  seen  the 
justice  of  the  debt  called  in  question.  If  it  were,  our  canal  and  our 
railroads,  penetrating  every  part  of  the  State,  and  contributing 
greatly  to  the  comfort  and  prosperity  of  our  people,  and  our  humane 
and  literary  institutions,  the  result  of  the  money  for  which  the  State 
is  indebted,  should  forever  silence  the  doubt. 

The  best  way  to  get  rid  of  private  debts  is  to  pay  them.  It  may 
require  time,  toil,  self-denial  and  sacrifice  to  do  it,  but  this  is  the 
course  prescribed  by  equity  and  honor,  and,  indeed,  enforced  by  the 
laws  of  the  State.  The  man  who  pays  his  debts  in  full,  with  interest, 
is  far  more  respected  and  far  more  worthy  of  confidence  than  most 
persons  who  settle  their  dues  by  bankrupt  notices  and  enforced  com- 
promises. Some  of  our  political  financiers,  however,  think  that  the 
State  debt  may  be  paid,  at  least  in  part,  by  what  they  term  "  read- 
justment." Let  us  examine  this  method  of  liquidating.  To  a  free, 
full  and  mutual  adjustment  of  debt  between  the  debtor  and  the 
creditor  there  can  be  no  objection.  If  ihe  debtor,  from  love  to  the 
creditor  or  pity  for  his  poverty,  abates  his  claim,  surely  nobody  can 
complain.  We  fear  that  the  hope  of  such  a  settlement  of  the  State 
debt  is  Utopian. 

The  principal  plea  that  we  have  heard  urged  for  the  readjustment 
of  Ihe  State  debt  is  her  inability  to  pay  it.  This  is  surely  a  mistake. 
The  State  debt,  subject  to  interest,  is  $29,350,826.38;  the  amount  of 
interest  due  and  in  arrears  is  $4,188,141.33  ;  making  the  total  amount 
due  a  little  more  than   thirty-three  millions  and  a  half.     The  real 


390  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

estate  in  the  Commonwealth  is  estimated  at  $242,756,548.75,  and  the 
personal  property,  far  below  its  value,  at  $74,954,304 — making  a  total 
of  $317,710,852.  According  to  this  estimate,  taken  from  the  auditors' 
accounts,  the  taxable  property  of  the  State  is  more  than  nine  and  a 
half  times  as  great  as  her  public  debt,  and  about  eleven  times  as  great 
as  her  interest-paying  debt.  Now,  what  should  we  think  of  a  man 
who,  owing  a  debt  amounting  to  one-tenth  part  of  estimated  value  of 
his  estate,  should  make  piteous  lamentation  over  his  poverty,  plead 
bis  inability  to  pay  the  interest  on  his  debt,  and  resort  to  artifices  to 
evade  its  payment,  in  whole  or  in  part?  We  are  unwilling  to  use 
offensive  epithets,  and  must  trust  our  readers  to  form  their  own  judg- 
ment on  the  subject.  Our  late  Governor  thought  that  the  present 
rate  of  taxation,  with  due  economy  and  proper  retrenchments,  would 
pay  the  current  expenses  and  interest  on  the  debt  of  the  State.  He 
may  have  been  sanguine  in  his  estimate,  but  certainly  a  moderate  in- 
crease of  the  taxes  will  enable  the  State  to  pay  all  her  just  debts. 

It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  State  is  only  required,  for 
many  years  to  come,  to  pay  the  interest  on  her  debt.  We  are  assured, 
too,  by  the  best  authority,  that  there  are  but  two  States  in  the  Union 
whose  tax  is  lighter  than  that  of  Virginia.  She  now  pays  50  cents  on 
the  hundred  dollars,  and  an  additional  tax  of  10  or  15  cents  on  that 
amount  would  certainly  meet  all  her  liabilities.  It  surely  cannot  be 
impracticable  to  advance  the  tax  $1.00  or  $1.50  on  every  $1000  worth 
of  property  to  save  the  State  from  bankruptcy  and  disgrace. 

It  is  asserted  by  the  friends  of  readjustment  that  the  State  cannot 
pay  her  debt  without  an  increased  rate  of  taxation,  and  the  people 
will  not  bear  it.  This  is  a  grave  and  dishonoring  charge  against  the 
citizens  of  Virginia,  and  ought  not  to  be  believed  without  clear  and 
decisive  evidence.  The  indictment  is  simply  this:  The  agents  of  the 
State,  acting  under  her  authority  and  according  to  her  will,  borrowed 
money  that  was  usefully  expended  in  the  improvement  of  her  terri- 
tory, and  now  her  citizens  refuse  to  be  taxed  to  pay  the  interest  on 
the  loan.  That  there  are  many  persons  opposed  to  paying  the  State 
debt,  as  they  are  to  paying  their  own  debts,  we  sorrowfully  admit.  A 
large  portion  of  her  people  pay  no  tax,  or  only  a  poll-tax,  and  the 
payment  of  the  State  debt  is  no  burden  to  them.  Citizens  possessing 
but  little  property  have  but  light  taxes  to  pay,  and  cannot  reasonably 
complain  of  their  burden.  Men  of  means,  who  really  pay  the  taxes 
of  the  State,  are,  with  few  exceptions,  so  far  as  our  information  ex- 
tends, in  favor  of  paying  our  debt.  We  do  not  believe,  we  cannot 
believe,  that  the  people  of  Virginia,  with  her  noble  historic  record, 
the  birth-place  of  Washington,  Madison  and  Jefferson  are  unwilling 
to  be  taxed  to  pay  a  just  debt,  contracted  to  prosecute  public  im- 
provements that  are  now  the  convenience  and  comfort  of  the  land. 

That  the  State,  in  her  embarrassment,  should  desire  a  reduction  of 
her  debt  is  not  surprising.  All  her  loyal  citizens  would  rejoice  if  it 
could  be  secured  by  fair  and  honorable  means.  We  fear  it  cannot  be. 
Let  us  look  the  subject  in  the  face. 

The  creditors  of  the  State  are  scattered  over  this  country  and 
Europe,  and  it  is  impossible  for  the  agents  of  the  State  to  have  a  free 
and  full  interchange  of  views  with  them  in  order  to  adjust  the  terms 
of  settling  the  public  debt,  and  if  such  an  interview  could  be  secured, 
it  is  scarcely  within  the  compass  of  possibility  that  the  creditors 


IN  THE  EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  391 

would  agree  on  adjustment.  A  few  of  them,  generous  and  large- 
hearted,  might  be  inclined  to  abate  a  portion  of  their  claims,  in  view  of 
the  loudly-asserted  poverty  of  the  State,  as  they  would  favor  any  other 
pauper  debtor,  but  it  is  contrary  to  all  the  laws  that  govern  humanity 
to  suppose  that  the  bulk  of  the  creditors,  without  constraint,  would 
yield  a  portion  of  their  just  claims  to  a  State  whose  taxable  property 
exceeds  by  ten-fold  the  amount  of  all  her  indebtedness.  Nor  is  this 
all.  A  considerable  portion  of  the  State  bonds  is  held  by  widows 
and  other  poor  and  dependent  persons,  whose  meagre  means  were 
vested  in  State  securities,  with  undoubting  faith  in  her  integrity,  and 
they  ought  not  to  reduce  their  claims.  The  State  could  not  honor- 
ably accept  the  reduction,  if  they  were  willing  to  make  it.  More 
than  this,  a  portion  of  the  State  bonds  is  held  by  guardians  for  de- 
pendent orphans,  and  by  trustees  for  educational  and  benevolent  in- 
stitutions, and  they  could  not,  if  they  would,  and  ought  not,  if  they 
could,  abate  any  portion  of  their  claims. 

Twist  and  turn  the  matter  as  we  may,  readjustment  must  either  be 
forcible  or  a  failure.  Forcible  readjustment  is  simply  a  refusal  to 
pay  the  State  debt,  in  whole  or  in  part,  and  is  but  another  name  for 
repudiation.  Let  us  look  beyond  the  word  for  its  meaning.  It  is  the 
refusal  of  the  State  to  pay  a  debt,  in  whole  or  in  part,  not  because  she 
is  unable  to  pay  it,  or  it  is  not  justly  due,  but  because  she  does  not 
find  it  convenient,  or  has  no  inclination,  or  cannot  be  compelled  to 
pay  it.  Let  us  calmly  examine  the  act.  We  will  not#indulge  in  op- 
probrious epithets,  but  we  request  gentlemen  whose  "  eyes,  turned  on 
emptiness,  beam  keen  with  honor"  to  survey  it,  and  form  their  own 
judgment  of  it.  Christians  especially  we  would  address  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  apostle :  "  Finally,  brethren,  whatsoever  things  are 
true,  whatsoever  things  are  honed,  whatsoever  things  are  just,  *  *  * 
think  on  these  things." 

It  is  due  to  the  friends  of  forcible  readjustment,  or  repudiation — a 
small  minority  we  trust  -to  suppose  that  they  have  not  carefully 
considered  the  character  and  consequences  of  the  measure  they  pro- 
pose. It  is  not  only  in  violation  of  the  law  of  God,  but  is  condemned 
by  every  ethical  code,  and  is  against  the  enlightened  sentiment  of  all 
Christendom.  It  brings  dishonor  and  a  burning  shame  upon  every 
community  that  resorts  to  it.  Hitherto,  Virginians,  when  they  have 
gone  abroad,  and  have  heard  reproaches  and  denunciations  against 
repudiators, — the  robbers  of  unfortunate  creditors, — have  stood  at 
full  height,  with  open  face,  and  proclaimed  that  they  resided  in  a 
State  in  which  honor  is  an  inheritance  and  repudiation  an  impossi- 
bility. We  trust  the  Legislature  will  not  deprive  us  of  this  cherished 
possession,  mantle  our  cheeks  with  shame,  and  make  us  a  by-word 
and  a  hissing  among  civilized  nations. 

"  Honesty  is  the  best  policy,"  for  States  as  well  as  for  individuals. 
Who  will  immigrate  to  a  repudiating  State?  Only  the  debased,  with 
whom  honor  is  at  a  discount,  and  who,  like  birds  that  feast  on  car- 
rion, scenting  the  distant  body  politic,  haste  to  partake  of  the  decay- 
ing carcass.  Who  can  trust  a  repudiating  State?  If  it  dishonors  one 
claim,  will  it  not  dishonor  another?  The  principle  laid  down  by  the 
Saviour  is  applicable  to  a  State  as  well  as  to  an  individual :  "He  that 
is  unjust  in  the  least  is  unjust  also  in  much  ;  '  and  certainly  he  that 
is  uujust  in  much  will  not  be  just  in  little.     Who  will  be  surety  for  a 


392  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

State   that  has  broken  her  promise,  defrauded   her  creditors  and 
quenched  her  honor  ? 

Repudiation,  should  it  spring  from  demoralization  of  society  con- 
sequent on  the  war,  the  bankrupt  law  and  the  unfortunate  stay  laws 
of  the  State,  will  react  upon  society.  Who  can  refuse  to  follow  the 
example  of  a  State  illustrious  for  her  patriotism,  her  generous  sacri- 
fices and  her  heroic  deeds  ?  We  fear  that  repudiation  will  be  classed 
among  the  virtues,  and  that  debtors  will  deem  it  commendable  to 
resort  to  artifices  and  threats  for  the  adjustment  or  repudiation  of 
their  debts.  How  can  the  State,  having  set  the  example,  restrain  her 
citizens  from  following  it?  What  is  deemed  right  in  the  mother  can 
hardly  be  considered  infamous  in  her  children. 

The  most  outspoken  readjusters,  we  suppose,  have  a  regard  to  con- 
sistency.    If  the  State,  in  repudiating  its  State  debt,  or  a  portion  of 
it,  despoils  herself  of  the  jewel  of  consistency,  she  casts  away  the 
only  remaining  ornament  that  adorned  her  once  noble  and  august 
person.     If  she  is  unable  or  unwilling  to  pay  her  debts,  then  all  her 
creditors  and  the  recipients  of  her  bounty  should  fare  alike.      If  she 
cannot  or  will  not  pay  her  old  creditors,  except  in  part,  then,  for  the 
same  reason  and  to  the  same  extent,  her  officers,  the  members  of  her 
Legislature  and  the  receivers  of  her  appropriations  should  be  unpaid. 
Let  us  illustrate  this  principle  by  a  case  at  hand.     The  friends  of 
Richmond  College,  with  great  self-denial  and  liberality,  contributed 
funds  for  its  endowment,  to  be  used  especially  for  the  education  of 
young  men  of  the  State.     The  trustees,  knowing  the  ability  of  Vir- 
ginia to  pay  her  debts  in  full,  and  confiding  in  her  honesty,  preferred 
her  securities  to  all  others  that  were  offered  for  their  acceptance,  and 
made  a  large  investment  in  her  bonds.     Now  is  it  right,  in  the  sight 
of  God  or  of  men,  that  she  should  rob  the  college  of  the  whole  or  a 
part  of  the  investment,  for  the  payment    of  which  she  is  solemnly 
bound  by  all  the  laws  and  all  the  honor  that  bind  a  commonwealth  ? 
In  our  opinion,  and  we  speak  as  a  tax-payer,  the  State  debt  should 
be  paid,  in  full,  without  needless  delay,  just  as  the  debt  of  an  honor- 
able gentleman,  bearing  the  same  proportion  to  his  property  as  does 
that  of  the  State  to  her  available  means,  would  certainly  be.    The 
Legislature  should  retrench  the  public  expenditures,  use  economi- 
cally the  means  in  hand,  seek  out  all  suitable  subjects  of  taxation, 
and  then  impose  such  taxes  as  are  actually  needed  to  meet  the  public 
liabilities.     This  course  would  please  not  only  "the  bloated  bond- 
holders," as  the  generous  creditors  of  the  State  are  sometimes  con- 
temptuously called,  but  every  high-minded  and  patriotic  citizen.  *  *  * 
We  have*  written  earnestly,  but  not  unkindly.     We  have  given  free 
utterance  to  our  own  solemn  and  profound  convictions  ;  but  we  have 
assailed  no  man's  motives,  and  concede  to  all  perfect  freedom  of 
opinion.      The   readjusters   have  reasons   which   satisfv   their   own 
minds  as  to  the  necessity,  at  least,  of  their  policy.     We  know  but 
imperfectly  what  they  are.     Thev  may  be  right;   wedo  not  claim 
infallibility  for  our  own  views.     We  have  no  personal  interest  in  the 
subject  discussed,  and  have  written  simply  from  the  desire  to  promote 
public  and  private  integrity,  and  to  save,  if  possible,  our  beloved 
commonwealth   from  what,  we  apprehend,  would  be  a  lasting  dis- 
grace. 


IN   THE   EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  393 

He  usually  wrote  from  two  to  four  columns  a 
week.  His  leader  rarely  fell  short  of  a  column,  and 
quite  often  went  beyond  it.  He  would  select  a 
theme— one  suited  to  his  taste  and  information — and 
discuss  it  tersely,  but  exhaustively.  What  he  said 
usually  embraced  everything  that  needed  to  be  said, 
and  was  so  well  said,  that  it  could  not  be  gainsaid. 
He  measured  his  ground  carefully  before  he  took  his 
position,  and  very  rarely  made  a  mistake,  and  when 
once  intrenched,  it  was  hard  to  dislodge  him.  Man}'' 
an  ambitious  tyro  charged  upon  him,  and  not  a  few 
redoubtable  heroes  of  the  quill  assailed  him,  with 
confident  courage,  only  to  find  that  his  positions  were 
impregnable.  It  was  positively  provoking  to  ob- 
serve the  unruffled  calmness,  with  which  he  received 
these  attacks.  They  were,  sometimes,  made  upon 
him,  not  with  the  weapons  of  a  lawful  warfare,  but 
in  terms  of  vituperation  and  scurrility.  But  he 
did  not  mind  it.  He  said  that  he  was  conscious  of 
only  one  qualification  as  an  editor,  and  that  was  the 
power  to  bear  abuse  without  any  feeling  of  resent- 
ment. Once  or  twice,  I  quarreled  with  him  outright, 
for  submitting  so  tamely  to  the  indignities  of  men  in- 
finitely inferior  to  him  in  worth  and  standing.  He 
replied,  that  he  could  afford  to  be  abused  and 
maligned,  but  that  he  could  not  on  any  account 
afford  to  retaliate.  If  others  hated  him,  that  was 
their  business ;  but,  if  he  hated  them,  that  would  be  a 
sin  of  his  own. 

One  of  his  exchanges  treated  him  with  unmeas- 
ured barbarity.  It  impugned  his  motives,  and  vili- 
fied him  so  remorselessly,  that  he  modestly  suggested 


394  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

that  it  would  be  better  for  both  parties,  that  they 
cease  to  exchange  official  courtesies.  From  that 
time  to  the  day  of  his  death,  the  two  papers  kept  on 
their  respective  sides  of  the  road,  neither  ever  en- 
tering the  office  of  the  other.  This  was  accom- 
plished in  a  quiet,  even-tempered  way,  so  far  as  he 
was  involved,  and  was  little  known  to  the  public. 
He  knew,  as  well,  as  any  other  man,  when  an  act  was 
mean  and  spiteful,  and  he  was  too  honest  not  to  de- 
spise it ;  but  he  knew  how  to  bridle  his  tongue,  and 
to  avoid  hard  and  hasty  speech.  He  never  dipped 
his  pen  in  gall,  nor  thickened  his  ink  with  boiling 
blood. 

If  his  editorial  brethren  took  offence,  at  any  utter- 
ances of  his,  he  was  prompt  to  explain,  and  if  con- 
vinced that  he  had  spoken  unadvisedly,  he  was  ready 
to  retract,  or  modify  his  statements.  He  maintained 
the  most  fraternal  relations,  with  his  professional 
brotherhood,  so  far  as  it  could  consistently  be  done. 
This  was  true  not  only  of  Baptist  editors,  but  of  those 
of  other  denominations,  and  of  the  secular  press.  He 
was  always  hailed,  as  a  chief  among  his  brethren,  and 
they  delighted  to  accord  to  him  the  seat  of  honor. 
Some  editors  got  mad  with  him.  He  was  too  strong 
for  them.  They  joined  battle  with  him,  and  were 
worsted,  and  even  when  he  died,  though  the  most 
conspicuous  Baptist  editor  of  the  South,  if  not  of  the 
country,  his  death  did  not  soothe  their  resentments. 
They  did  not  have  grace,  to  speak  fittingly  of  the  old 
man,  even  when  his  pen  had  been  laid  aside,  and 
his  soul  had  gone  to  heaven.  This  is  really  too  sad 
to  be  mentioned.     It  is  due  to  many  of  the  editors 


IN   THE   EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  395 

who  had  grappled  him  in  high  debate,  while  he  lived, 
to  say  that  when  his  end  came  they  were  prompt  to 
wreathe  his  name  with  chaplets  of  honor. 

Dr.  Jeter  was  a  controversialist,  not  by  taste,  but 
from  conviction.  His  convictions  were  sharp,  his 
zeal  outspoken,  and  his  spirit  valorous  and  aggres- 
sive. He  could  not  be  silent,  when,  in  his  judgment, 
truth  was  imperilled  or  error  was  rampant.  He 
was  a  warrior  all  his  life.  He  was  prompt  to  con- 
tend for  the  faith,  once  delivered  to  the  saints.  He 
had  the  heart  of  a  lion,  and  without  knowing  it,  was 
a  man  of  transcendent  courage.  But  he  was  not 
bitter.  He  was  uniformly  courteous  toward  his 
adversaries.  It  was  impossible  to  dragoon  him  into 
harsh  personalities. 

In  speaking  of  him  as  a  controversialist,  I  beg  to  let 
him  give  his  own  views  as  to  the  spirit  in  which  reli- 
gious controversy  should  be  conducted.  This  is  taken 
from  the  Religious  Herald  of  February  14th,  1878  : 

"  To  be  useful,  religious  controversy  must  be  conducted  with 
candor.  This  is  an  honest  desire  to  know  and  maintain  truth. 
It  resorts  to  no  artifices  or  evasions  in  discussions.  It  admits  all 
that  is  true  in  the  arguments  of  an  opponent.  It  scorns  to  mis- 
represent his  statements,  take  advantage  of  his  mistakes  or  dam- 
age his  cause  by  any  effort  to  awaken  prejudices  against  it.  In 
short,  it  aims  to  reach  or  defend  truth  only  by  clear  statements, 
sound  reasoning  and  kind  appeals.  Observation  has  led  us  to 
the  conclusion  that  candor  is  the  rarest  of  all  human  virtues,  and 
so  uncommon  in  nothing  as  in  religious  cpntroversy.  Yet,  with- 
out this  spirit  religious  controversy  is  a  mere  attempted  display 
of  dialectic  skill,  unprofitable,  if  not  pernicious,  to  men  and  offen- 
sive in  the  sight  of  God. 

Another  needed  element  of  religious  controversy  is  courtesy. 


396  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

It  avoids  all  that  is  rude  or  offensive  in  manner,  and  seeks  by 
gentleness  and  urbanity  to  conciliate  and  win  an  opponent. 
Most  controversialists  pursue  an  opposite  course.  By  self-confi- 
dent airs,  opprobrious  remarks  and  ungenerous  insinuations  they 
defeat  the  end  of  their  discussion  and  injure  their  own  cause.  .  .  . 

Humility  is  a  most  becoming  disposition  in  religious  contro- 
versy. It  is  not  haughty,  intolerant  and  overbearing ;  but  self- 
distrustful,  modest  and  cautious.  It  is  not  incompatible  with 
strong  convictions  and  earnest  purpose,  but  it  lays  no  claim  to 
infallibility  and  supreme  authority.  It  is  not  difficult  to  find 
polemics,  who,  with  meagre  knowledge  and  limited  experience, 
have  no  question  of  their  inerrability,  especially  on  points  con- 
cerning which  the  evidence  is  dim,  and  the  wisest  men  are  most 
in  doubt.  It  should  be  understood,  too,  that  undue  self-confidence 
adds  nothing  to  the  strength  of  an  argument,  and  that  a  modest 
statement  of  it  detracts  nothing  from  its  force.  Few  persons  will 
patiently  receive  instructions  from  a  self-conceited  dogmatic 
teacher,  but  most  are  inclined  to  pay  respectful  attention  to  the 
utterances  of  a  modest,  unassuming  defender  of  his  opinions. 

All  religious  controversy  should  be  conducted  in  a  spirit  of 
prayer.  Without  the  divine  blessing  we  may  acquire  the  repu- 
tation of  skilful  disputants,  and  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  real  or  imag- 
inary triumphs,  but  we  will  contribute  nothing  to  the  progress 
and  glory  of  the  word  of  the  Lord.  To  Avar  in  the  defence  of  reli- 
gious truth  in  a  godly  spirit,  and  with  only  divinely-appointed 
armor,  demands  a  measure  of  faith  and  piety  that  few  Christians 
possess,  but  without  which  they  should  be  cautious  not  to  enter 
into  the  conflict." 

These  are  the  Christian  principles  which  Dr. 
Jeter  believed  ought  to  underlie  all  religious  contro- 
versy. He  and  Dr.  Gambrell,  of  Mississippi,  had  an 
extended  controversy  on  what  is  known  among 
Southwestern  Baptists  as  "  Landmarkism."  The 
discussion  was  earnest,  vigorous  and  prolonged,  and 
yet,  it  would  not  be  too  much  to  say  that  from  begin- 
ning to  end,  neither  of  the  disputants  used  a  single 


IN   THE   EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  397 

disparaging  epithet,  or  resorted  to  the  least  indirec- 
tion, to  gain  the  advantage.  It  was  a  model  religious 
controversy.  It  demonstrated  the  fact,  that  thor- 
oughly good  men  may  be  as  considerate  and  courte- 
ous in  matters  of  disagreement,  as  when  their  views 
are  in  exact  harmony. 

One  fact  added  immensely  to  Dr.  Jeter's  influence 
and  celebrity  as  an  editor.  He  entered  the  field  of 
journalism  at  a  critical  period  in  the  history  of  our 
republic.  The  war  had  just  ended.  The  South  was 
crushed,  despondent  and  bitter.  The  North,  flushed 
with  sudden  victory,  had  not  learned  to  be  magnan- 
imous. The  tone  of  its  religious  press  was  intem- 
perate, and  often  contemptuous  towards  the  South. 
Spiteful  flings  were  made  at  their  vanquished  breth- 
ren. On  the  Southern  side,  the  pepole  were  chafed 
and  resentful,  and  found  grim  comfort  in  bitterly 
denouncing  those  who  had  conquered  them.  Polit- 
ical problems,  new  and  perplexing,  sprang  up  out 
of  the  ruins  of  the  war,  exciting  acrimonious  debate 
and  widening  the  bloody  chasm. 

At  this  crisis,  Dr.  Jeter  entered  the  editorial  field. 
He  was  then  in  the  later  prime  of  a  vigorous  and 
well-preserved  manhood.  His  reputation  was  na- 
tional. He  had  played  a  most  memorable  part  in 
the  old  Triennial  Convention,  and  while  of  all  South- 
ern men,  he  had  been  most  active  in  promoting  the 
division  of  that  body,  his  conservative  spirit  and 
courteous  dignity  had  secured  for  him,  the  highest 
respect  of  the  representative  Baptists  of  the  North. 

By  his  wisdom  and  consecrated  energy,  he  had 
become  the  most  influential  leader  among  the  Bap- 


398  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D 

tists  of  the  South.  He  wrote  the  paper  which  called 
together  the  meeting  that  resulted  in  forming  the 
Southern  Baptist  Convention.  He  was  the  first 
President  of  the  Foreign  Mission  Board,  and  was 
looked  upon,  by  his  Southern  brethren,  as  a  safe  and 
trustworthy  counsellor.  He  was  all  the  more  ac- 
ceptable to  them,  because  of  his  cordial  identifica- 
tion with  the  fortunes  of  the  Southern  Confederacy. 
They  knew  that,  in  the  war  sense  of  the  term,  he 
was  a  Southern  man. 

His  bold  and  decided  attitude  during  the  war,  of 
course,  provoked  the  prejudices  of  the  more  extreme 
men  of  the  North.  But  the  best  people  in  both  sec- 
tions soon  learned  to  respect  earnest  men  on  either 
side,  while  they  looked  with  suspicious  eye  upon 
those  who  sought  to  be  on  both  sides. 

It  was  fortunate  for  Dr.  Jeter  that  his  home  was 
in  Richmond.  As  the  capital  of  the  Southern  Con- 
federacy, that  city  had  become  the  most  commanding 
point  in  the  South,  and  situated  on  the  middle  line, 
it  gave  to  the  Herald  easy  access  to  both  sections. 
He  enjoyed  the  additional  advantage  of  starting  his 
enterprise  in  advance  of  many  other  Southern  Bap- 
tist papers,  and  thus  speedily  secured  a  circulation 
in  the  South  which  led  the  Northern  exchanges  to 
recognize  it  as,  in  a  large  measure,  the  organ  of 
Southern  Baptist  sentiment. 

From  the  outset,  he  took  strong  ground  in  favor  of 
fraternity  and  good-will  between  the  Baptists  of  the 
South  and  those  of  the  North.  With  many,  his 
views  did  not  command  prompt  approval.  Among 
the  fanatical  and  revengeful  of  the  North,  his  calm 


IN   THE   EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  399 

plea  for  forbearance  was  mistaken  for  ignoble  cring- 
ing, and  if,  on  the  other  hand,  he  repelled  their 
unjust  assaults  upon  the  South,  he  was,  at  once 
branded  as  an  unreconstructed  rebel.  Many  South- 
ern men,  too,  of  bitter  memories,  were  quick  to  re- 
sent his  conciliatory  bearing  toward  the  Northern 
people.  They  stigmatized  it,  as  mean  truckling  to 
the  conqueror.  They  were  yet  standing  by  the 
grave  of  the  Lost  Cause,  and  were  readjr  in  petulant 
grief  to  smite  those  who  spoke  a  kindly  word  of 
those  who  caused  its  downfall. 

As  an  example  of  the  cruel  injustice  which  he 
met  in  the  house  of  his  friends,  I  may  mention  that 
Dr.  Jeter  was  an  ardent  friend  of  the  American 
Baptist  Publication  Society.  He  did  not  hesitate  to 
commend  it  to  the  support  of  Southern  Baptists. 
For  this  he  was  openly  charged  with  corruption.  It 
was  said  that  the  Herald  had  been  purchased  by 
that  society,  and  Dr.  Jeter  was  a  mere  agent  for 
bringing  to  it  the  patronage  of  the  South, — a  deadly 
slander  unrelieved  by  a  grain  of  truth,  and  aimed 
against  a  man  who  was  above  all  price. 

But  he  won  his  crown  at  last.  In  standing  forth 
as  the  champion  of  peace  and  brotherhood,  he  was 
far  ahead  of  the  bulk  of  his  brethren,  on  both  sides 
of  the  line.  He  stood  between  the  contending  sec- 
tions, and  though  raked  by  a  double  fire,  he  worked 
and  waited.  By  degrees,  a  sense  of  justice  and  the 
prevailing  love  of  Christ  drew  about  him,  good  men 
from  both  directions.  Unable  to  maintain  their  ex- 
treme positions,  they  gradually  drew  nearer  together, 
and  thus  found  themselves  in  his  company.     His  at- 


400  LIFE  OF  JEREMTAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

titude  of  conservatism  and  conciliation,  became  the 
rallying-ground  for  all  parties,  and  he  was  at  length 
recognized  as  a  chief  among  the  apostles  of  peace 
and  good-will. 

It  is  not  claiming  too  much  for  him  to  say  that 
he  wielded  a  national  influence  in  reviving  a  kindly 
spirit  between  the  North  and  South.  The  Baptists 
led  the  van  in  the  march  to  reconciliation,  and  with 
that  he  had  much  to  do.  Other  denominations  came 
on  later,  having  been  greatly  stimulated  in  their  de- 
sire for  harmony  by  the  example  of  the  Baptists. 
Dr.  Jeter  led  the  Baptists,  and  the  Baptists  led  the 
others. 

Let  me  not  claim  too  much  for  him.  He  needs 
no  unmerited  honor.  Justice  requires  me  to  say 
that  there  were  Baptist  editors,  in  both  sections  of 
the  country  who,  like  him,  were  magnanimous,  cour- 
ageous and  brotherly.  They  share  with  him  the 
honor  of  having  exorcised  the  sectional  demon  and 
of  ushering  in  the  era  of  good  feeling.  In  doing  jus- 
tice to  him,  I  would  not  wrong  them. 

It  is  generally  known  that  Dr.  Jeter  openly  favored 
an  organic  reunion  among  the  American  Baptists. 
He  expressed  more  than  once  the  hope  that  he  might 
live  to  see  all  lines  of  separation  blotted  out,  and  the 
entire  brotherhood  merged  into  one  body.  He  said 
that  as  Providence  had  removed  slavery,  which  was 
the  original  cause  of  the  division,  there  was  no  longer 
any  sufficient  reason  for  their  remaining  apart.  He 
died  without  realizing  his  hopes;  but  he  lived  to  see 
the  end  of  alienation  and  strife.  He  believed  that 
the  two  sections  would  have  re-united  but  for  the 


IN  THE   EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  401 

conviction  that  they  could  more  effectively  serve  the 
Redeemer  by  preserving  intact  their  several  organ- 
izations. 

His  conservative  spirit  was  infused  into  the  Bap- 
tist journalism  of  the  country.  It  is  true  that  he 
had  some  rough  tilts  with  his  editorial  brethren  on 
sectional  questions.  They  often  eclipsed  him  in 
brilliant  sarcasm  and  scathing  epithet;  but  they 
could  not  spoil  his  temper  nor  overthrow  his  pacific 
policy.  Smite  him  as  they  would,  he  moved  serenely 
forward  upon  his  chosen  path,  and  paused  not  till 
the  Angel  of  Peace  had  returned  to  the  land.  In 
his  last  years  he  towered  among  his  brethren,  victo- 
rious in  his  heavenly  work,  revered  by  good  men 
everywhere,  and  wore  a  crown  which,  without  the 
asking,  had  been  placed  upon  his  head  by  the  friends 
of  God. 

What  has  been  said  in  former  chapters,  together 
with  the  large  amount  of  his  own  writing  contained 
in  this  volume,  relieves  me  of  the  necessity  of  dis- 
cussing at  length  Dr.  Jeter's  chief  points  as  a  writer. 

It  is  worthy  of  mention  that  he  was  famous  for 
his  beautiful  chirography.  His  handwriting  was 
characteristic — smooth,  round,  open  and  easy  to  read. 
It  contained  no  flourishes,  was  stained  by  few  blots, 
and  even  its  corrections  were  distinct  and  legible. 
If  he  wrote  a  wrong  word,  and  had  to  mark  it  out, 
he  marked  it  out  utterly.  It  was  well-nigh  impos- 
sible to  decipher  his  blotted  words.  He  did  not 
write  rapidly, — indeed,  he  was  not  nervously  rapid 
in  any  of  his  movements, — but  he  moved  his  pen 
with  a  steady,  vigorous  hand,  and  could  accomplish, 
26 


402  LIFE  OF  JEEEMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

in  his  deliberate  way,  as  much  as  more  rapid  scribes. 
His  manuscripts  were  things  of  beauty,  a  feast  to  a 
printer's  eye.  He  rarely  abbreviated,  and  knew  no- 
thing of  the  arbitrary  symbols  with  which  many 
composers  distress  the  printers.  His  handwriting 
was  as  steady,  and  graceful  to  the  very  last  of  his 
working  life,  as  it  was  in  the  days  of  his  youth. 

He  composed  with  extraordinary  facility.  He 
had  the  habit  of  thinking  out  his  editorials,  before 
leaving  his  bed,  in  the  morning.  He  was  not  an 
early  riser,  though  he  slept  so  soundly  during  the 
night,  that  he  always  awoke  early,  and  before  the 
house  was  astir,  he  gave  his  morning  thoughts  to 
his  work.  He  had,  in  an  eminent  degree,  the  power 
of  thinking  through  a  subject,  and  framing  it  men- 
tally, before  committing  it  to  paper.  He  could  do 
it  so  finely,  that  often  when  he  took  up  his  pen  he 
knew  every  sentence,  and  almost  every  word  that 
he  intended  to  write.  He  could  think  with  his  pen, 
but  his  best  thinking  was  done  without  it.  At  the 
end  of  his  mental  processes  he  simply  summoned 
his  pen,  as  an  ever-obedient  servant,  to  marshall  into 
orderly  form  the  soldiery  of  his  brain.  As  a  con- 
sequence, he  did  not  often  rewrite ;  some  of  his  long- 
est articles  were  finished  at  a  sitting. 

His  editorial  leaders,  as  a  rule,  were  masterjDieces. 
They  dealt  with  living  problems,  and  their  discus- 
sion was  methodical,  logical  and  comprehensive.  Of 
one  of  his  editorials,  a  celebrated  teacher  said  that 
it  illustrated  almost  every  logical  form  of  argument. 
His  traits,  as  a  writer,  rendered  him  attractive  to 
the  cultivated  and  intelligible  to  the  simple-minded. 


IN  THE  EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  403 

It  is  nonsense  to  claim  that  a  man  cannot  under- 
stand English  without  an  acquaintance  with  its 
kindred  tongues.  Dr.  Jeter  was  not  a  classical 
scholar,  but  he  was  one  of  the  finest  English  scholars 
that  our  country  has  produced.  As  for  his  acquaint- 
ance with  words,  it  would  hardly  be  too  much  to 
say  that  he  had  the  dictionary  at  his  tongue's  end. 
He  knew  the  uses,  the  shades  of  meaning  and  the 
peculiar  forces  of  words.  He  rarely  failed  to  use 
the  exact  word  that  would  express  most  forcibly  his 
meaning.  The  result  was  a  lucid,  perspicuous  and 
almost  radiant  style.  He  set  his  thought  out  in 
such  perfect  diction,  that  it  glittered  like  a  diamond. 
He  could  say  what  he  wished  to  say, — say  it  just  as 
it  ought  to  be  said,  and  in  terms  that  could  not  be 
misunderstood.  There  may  have  been  a  possible 
lack  of  fancy  in  his  style, — that  delicate  weird  charm 
which  some  writers  possess ;  but  there  was  an  apt- 
ness and  simplicity  which  always  relieved  him  of 
tameness. 

To  his  transparency  of  statement  he  added  a 
peculiar  grace.  There  was  a  smoothness,  an  easy 
rippling  flow  in  the  current  of  his  thought,  a  warmth 
and  freshness,  which  enkindled  attention  and  en- 
chained interest.  One  could  not  read  thoughtfully 
what  he  said  without  experiencing  a  pleasant  men- 
tal exaltation.  He  lifted,  while  he  charmed  his 
readers.  Not  that  he  produced  that  dreamy,  deli- 
cious impression,  pleasing  for  the  moment,  and  then 
speedily  fading.  His  style  possessed  a  certain  deli- 
cate vigor  which  drove  his  thought  deep  into  the 
mind  of  the  reader.     What  he  said  or  wrote  never 


404  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

produced  the  highest  excitement,  but  it  had  a  singu- 
lar penetration.  It  went  into  the  mind,  and  became 
riveted  into  the  memory.  He  cut  to  the  core  of  his 
subject  and  to  the  heart  of  his  reader.  He  stormed 
the  strongholds  and  planted  his  standards  in  the  cita- 
del of  the  soul. 

There  was  a  dignity  in  his  utterances  which,  while 
not  easy  to  describe,  was  universally  confessed.  He 
moved  on  an  elevated  plane,  spoke  in  calm  and  lofty 
words,  and  always  brought  a  message  worthy  of  re- 
spect. He  never  indulged  in  trivial  and  unseemly 
thoughts.  At  times  his  articles  were  touched  with 
sarcasm,  glinted  with  humor,  or  aglow  with  passion. 
But  speak  as  he  might,  it  was  the  voice  of  a  master. 

His  princeliest  charm  as  a  writer  was  earnestness. 
He  was  a  man  with  a  message — which  burned  in  his 
bones,  and  the  heat  of  the  flame  went  out  in  his 
words.  It  seemed  impossible  for  him  to  meddle 
with  a  matter  which  did  not  grapple  his  deeper 
nature  and  call  forth  his  strong  feeling.  His  edito- 
rials were  fragrant  with  religious  unction.  They 
were  sermons  in  print.  In  other  places  I  have  had 
occasion  to  mention  his  boldness.  His  valiant  spirit 
gave  courage  to  his  style.  Defiant  and  overbearing 
he  could  not  be,  but  in  every  word  he  wrote  there 
appeared  a  man  who  believed  something,  and  who 
was  not  afraid  to  say  it. 

In  a  word,  Dr.  Jeter  was  a  Christian  editor.  He 
wrote  on  Christian  themes  in  a  Christian  spirit,  and 
with  a  dominant  desire  to  honor  Christ.  This  opinion 
expressed,  in  fullest  confidence  finds,  a  pleasant  echo 
in  the  following  words  from  Dr.  John  A.  Broaddus  : 


IN  THE  EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  405 

"  I  remember  saying  when  he  was  gone,  that  after  reading  prob- 
ably every  article  that  he  had  published  as  editor,  I  recalled 
no  line  which,  as  to  the  spirit  of  it,  he  need  have  regretted  in  his 
dying  hour.  He  was  often  assailed,  sometimes  harshly;  he 
defended  himself  most  manfully  ;  he  stood  up  squarely  for  truth, 
and  squarely  against  what  he  regarded  as  error ;  but  the  tone 
and  spirit  were  always  such  as  became  a  Christian.  May  all  of 
us  who  write  in  religious  journals  be  specially  helped  by  Divine 
grace  as  we  strive  to  imitate  this  example." 

In  closing  the  review  of  the  Doctor's  editorial 
record,  I  must  express  regret  that  I  cannot  add  to  its 
interest  by  more  numerous  extracts  from  his  editorials. 
I  append  two  fragments,  the  taste  of  which  will 
revive  in  many  the  happy  recollection  of  weekly 
feasts  which  he  used  to  spread  for  them  in  his  col- 
umns. 

THE   INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 

"  Man  knows  but  little.  With  all  his  genius,  learning,  studies,  ex- 
perience and  reputation  he  is  but  a  sciolist.  He  cannot  comprehend 
himself.  He  is  curiously  and  wonderlully  made.  His  body  is  a 
machine  of  the  most  intricate  and  delicate  structure.  No  anatomist 
or  physiologist  can  fully  understand  the  complex  organism  or  its 
mysterious  functions.  Who  can  explain  life  or  growth  or  any  of  the 
bodily  senses?  The  mind  is  more  incomprehensible  than  the  body. 
Is  it  a  product  of  matter — a  mere  function  of  the  brain — or  has  it  a 
higher  and  nobler  origin?  Where  is  the  link  that  binds  it  to  the 
body?  Whence  its  lofty  aspirations  after  happiness?  its  longings 
for  immortality?  its  Teachings  after  the  infinite? 

If  man  cannot  comprehend  himself,  much  less  can  he  comprehend 
the  universe  of  which  he  is  but  an  atom.  Whether  it  be  examined 
through  the  microscope,  the  telescope  or  the  spectroscope,  its  wonders 
are  countless  and  overwhelming.  How  was  matter  created  out  of 
nothing.  Whence  are  the  laws,  so  silent,  pervasive,  powerful  and 
uniform,  that  bind  and  move  the  planets  in  their  orbits,  and  keep  the 
myriad  stars  in  their  proper  spheres.  No  scientist  can  fathom  the 
mysteries  of  a  single  atom;  how,  then,  can  he  comprehend  the  in- 
finite variety,  the  boundless  extent,  and  the  surpassing  splendors  of  a 
universe,  only  the  suburbs  of  which  can  be  explored  by  the  mightiest 
telescope? 

The  Creator  is  greater  than  the  Universe.  We  infer  the  skill  of 
an  artist  from  the  beauty  and  perfection  of  his  work — the  genius  and 
taste  of  an  architect  from  the  grandeur  and  completeness  of  the 
building  which  he  rears. 


406  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

This  reasoning  cannot  deceive  us.  Its  soundness  is  confirmed  by  the 
experience  of  all  mankind.  How  incomprehensible,  then,  must  be  the 
perfections  of  that  Being,  whose  wisdom  planned,  whose  power 
created,  sustains  and  governs,  and  whose  goodness  bountifully  sup- 
plies with  comforts  the  illimitable  universe! 

We  firmly  believe  that  God  exists.  Everything  within  us  and 
around  us  proclaims  the  being  of  a  Creator.  Man  is  the  wisest 
creature  with  whom  we  are  acquainted ;  and  there  is  a  wisdom  dis- 
played in  every  animal,  in  every  plant,  and  in  every  ray  of  the  sun, 
entirely  above  his  comprehension.  We  cannot  ascribe  this  wisdom 
to  unconscious  matter  without  stultifying  ourselves.  We  are  con- 
strained by  the  very  constitution  of  our  nature  to  attribute  this 
wisdom  to  a  Being  of  infinitely  higher  intelligence  than  man ;  and 
this  Being  is  God. 

How  little  do  we  know  or  can  we  know  of  God?  The  finite  can- 
not comprehend  the  infinite.  Whence  came  God?  He  exists  of 
necessity  we  are  told ;  and  to  that  conclusion  reason  conducts  us. 
Whence  this  necessity?  Necessity  implies  causation;  but  God  is 
uncaused.  Necessity  is  a  law;  and  a  law  implies  a  law-giver;  but 
what  law-giver  antedated  the  existence  of  God?  Was  being  a  neces- 
sity? Might  there  not  have  been  eternal  nothingness?  God  existed 
from  eternity;  but  was  matter  eternal?  If  it  is,  then  it  was  not 
created.  Like  the  self-existent  mind  that  governs  the  universe,  it  was 
from  everlasting.  If  it  was  created,  then  it  had  a  beginning.  If  it 
had  a  beginning,  then  God  existed  before  the  universe.  If  He  existed 
before  matter,  then,  however  far  back  in  the  mysterious  depths  of 
eternity  we  may  date  the  beginning.  He  dwelt  in  solitude  an  infinite 
period,  anterior  to  creation.  Why  this  delay  of  creation?  Why  any 
creation,  if  God  from  eternity  existed  alone  in  infinite  bliss? 
Had  there  been  no  matter,  no  spirit,  no  God,  would  there  not  have 
been  space  and  duration?  Had  there  been  no  intelligence,  would  it 
not  still  have  been  true  that  if  matter  were  still  in  existence,  the 
whole. would  be  greater  than  a  part? 

Charnock,  speaking  of  the  incomprehensibility  of  God,  says : 
He  that  fills  heaven  and  earth  cannot  be  contained  in  any- 
thing; fills  the  understandings  of  men,  the  understandings  of 
angels,  but  is  comprehended  by  neither;  there  is  no  measuring  of 
an  infinite  being;  if  it  were  to  be  measured,  it  were  not  infinite;  but 
because  it  is  infinite,  it  is  not  measured. 

God  sits  above  the  cherubims  (Ex.  10 :  1),  above  the  fullness,  above 
the  brightness,  not  only  of  a  human,  but  of  a  created  understanding. 
Nothing  is  more  present  than  God,  yet  nothing  more  hid  ;  He  is  light 
and  yet  obscurity ;  His  perfections  are  visible,  yet  unsearchable ;  we 
know  there  is  an  infinite  God,  but  it  surpasses  the  compass  of  our 
minds.  These  speculations  are  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  teach- 
ings of  the  Scriptures.  Job  says:  "Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out 
God?  Canst  thou  find  out  the  Almighty  unto  perfection?  It  is  as 
high  as  Heaven;  what  canst  thou  do?  deeper  than  hell:"  what 
canst  thou  know  ?  the  measure  thereof  is  longer  than  the  earth,  and 
broader  than  the  sea.  The  Psalmist  says :  "  Great  is  our  Lord,  and 
of  great  power ;  his  understanding  is  infinite.''  Paul  says:  "Othe 
depth  of  the  riches,  both  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God !  how 
unsearchable  are  his  judgments,  and  his  ways  past  finding  out!" 


IN  THE  EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  407 

We  have  indulged  in  these  speculations,  we  trust,  in  no  irreverent 
spirit.  They  are  adapted  to  teach  us  our  ignorance.  A  conscious 
sense  of  ignorance  lies  at  the  foundation  of  all  true  wisdom.  "  If  any 
man  think  that  he  knoweth  anything,"  is  wise  in  his  own  conceit, 
self-confident,  "he  knoweth  nothing  as  he  ought  to  know,"  his 
knowledge  is  superficial  and  inefficacious,  puffing  him  up  rather  than 
humbling  him.  Surely,  meditation  on  the  incomprehensibleness  of 
ourselves,  all  things  around  us,  and  the  infinite  Being,  of  whom,  and 
though  whom  and  to  whom,  are  all  things,  will  make  us  modest  and 
self-distrustful  if  any  means  can.  The  more  we  know  God  and  His 
ways,  the  more  profoundly  shall  we  be  convinced  of  our  ignorance 
and  fallibility. 

These  speculations  should  teach  us  the  narrow  boundary  of  human 
knowledge.  A  child  may  ask  questions  which  no  philosopher  can 
answer.  The  knowledge  of  the  most  learned  men  is  as  an  atom  com- 
pared with  infinity.  Fortunately  it  is  not  essential  to  our  piety,  our 
happiness  or  our  usefulness,  that  we  should  understand  the  mysteries 
of  nature  and  of  Providence.  The  knowledge  necessary  to  guide  us 
concerning  our  interests  and  our  duties  lies  within  a  narrow  com- 
pass. 

All  knowledge  is  good,  if  rightly  used ;  but  only  the  knowledge  of 
the  things  that  make  for  our  peace  is  indispensable.  To  gain  this,  not 
genius  and  high  culture,  but  an  humble  teachable  spirit  is  demanded. 
All  true  wisdom  is  from  above.  "If  any  of  you  lack  wisdom,"  says 
James,  "let  him  ask  of  God,  that  giveth  to  all  liberally,  and  up- 
braideth  not;  and  it  shall  be  given  him."  He  is  the  great  Teacher, 
in  whose  school  the  dullest  may  be  taught,  and  the  brightest  genius 
may  feel  his  ignorance.  They  are  wise  whom  God  instructs,  and 
all  are  fools  besides. 

Knowledge  is  progressive.  What  Jesus  said  to  Simon  Peter,  with 
reference  to  a  particular  subject,  admits  of  a  general  application : 
"What  I  do  thou  knowest  not  now;  but  thou  shalt  know  hereafter." 
In  the  present  life,  many  things  which  are  dark  at  one  time,  become, 
by  observation,  experience  and  the  teaching  of  Divine  Providence, 
clear.  It  is,  however,  in  the  future  state,  that  our  knowledge  shall 
be  perfected.  "  For  we  know  in  part,  and  we  prophesy  in  part.  But 
when  that  which  is  perfect  shall  come ;  then  that  which  is  in  part 
shall  be  done  away.  For  now  we  see  through  a  glass  darkly;  but 
then  face  to  face."  A  thousand  subjects,  dim  and  mysterious  in  the 
present  life,  will  be  plain  in  the  light  of  eternity.  But  even  in 
Heaven  our  knowledge,  perfect  as  compared  with  our  present  ignor- 
ance, will  be  far  from  perfect  as  compared  with  omniscience.  The 
finite  cannot  grasp  the  infinite.  The  saints  in  glory  will  probably 
have  a  profounder  sense  of  the  meagreness  of  their  knowledge  than 
they  can  possibly  have  on  earth,  and  will  ascribe  all  "  wisdom,"  as 
well  as  "honor  and  power  and  might,"  unto  "God  forever  and  ever." 
Some  things,  however,  we  certainly  know  on  earth.  "  The  living 
know  that  they  must  die."  To  this  solemn,  momentous  truth  they 
cannot  shut  their  eye.  It  stares  them  in  the  face  in  every  grave- 
yard, every  funeral  procession,  and  in  every  undertaker's  shop. 
Every  man  knows,  if  he  is  not  steeped  in  depravity,  that  he  is  a  sin- 
ner. The  evidence  of  this  truth  is  inefFaoeably  inscribed  on  his  heart. 
His  own  conscience  proves  his  guilt.     Whatsoever  else  he  may  need, 


408  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

he  needs  salvation.  It  is  his  supreme  want.  Happy  are  they  who 
can  say  with  Paul:  I  know  whom  I  have  believed,  and  am  persuaded 
that  he  is  able  to  keep  that  which  I  have  committed  unto  him  against 
that  day.  They  may  be  ignorant  of  science,  philosophy,  literature, 
and  have  but  a  small  measure  of  worldly  wisdom ;  but  they  are  wise 
unto  salvation,  understand  the  science  of  redemption,  and  have 
learned  the  art  of  living  to  the  glory  of  God. 

As  Dr.  Jeter's  connection  with  the  Italian  Mission 
fell  within  the  period  of  his  editorial  life,  I  insert 
here  a  brief  account  of  it. 

SPECIAL    COMMISSIONERS   TO   ROME. 

On  the  21st  of  June,  1872,  Dr.  Jeter  was  appointed  by  the 
Foreign  Mission  Board  of  the  Southern  Baptist  Convention,  as  a 
special  Commissioner  to  Rome,  to  supervise  their  Baptist  Mission. 
It  was  remarkable,  indeed,  that  he,  then  seventy  years  of  age, 
should  have  been  summoned  to  duty,  as  a  foreign  missionary.  I 
regret  that  an  event,  so  deeply  interesting  in  European  missions, 
and  so  full  of  honor  to  him,  cannot  receive  a  full  notice  in  these 
pages. 

It  must  suffice  to  say,  that  in  1870,  the  Baptists  of  the  South 
established  a  mission  in  Southern  Europe.  They  appointed  Dr. 
W.  N.  Cote  as  a  missionary  to  Italy.  He  established  his  head- 
quarters in  Rome,  being  the  first  Protestant  evangelist  to  enter 
that  city,  after  its  occupation  by  the  army  of  King  Emanuel.  He 
selected  several  assistants  and  promptly  began  his  work.  So 
brilliant  was  his  success  in  the  outset,  and  so  glowing  his  reports, 
that  the  American  Baptists  were  led  to  believe,  that  the  gospel  of 
Christ  was  to  win  an  easy  and  speedy  triumph,  in  the  stronghold 
of  Papacy.  Churches  were  established  in  several  Italian  cities, 
colporteurs  and  missionaries  were  appointed,  accessions  were  nu- 
merous and  the  outlook  most  cheering. 

In  March,  1872,  Giovanni  B.  Gioja  was  baptized.  He  was  a 
man  of  varied  gifts  and  accomplishments — a  famous  linguist  and 
already  of  good  repute  as  a  Christian  worker.  It  was  confidently 
anticipated,  that  with  him  and  Cote  as  yoke-fellows,  the  w7ork 
would  grow,  with  even  increased  rapidity.  Baptists  of  the  North 
joined  heartily  with  their  Southern  brethren  in  raising  money  to 
build  a  Baptist  chapel  in  Rome. 


IN   THE  EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  409 

It  soon  appeared,  however,  that  the  affairs  of  the  Italian  Mis- 
sion were  suffering  through  the  indiscretion  of  its  leaders.  In 
this  exigency,  the  Foreign  Mission  Board  decided  that  it  was  in- 
dispensably necessary  to  place  in  Rome,  an  American  missionary 
whose  piety,  wisdom  and  business  qualifications  could  be  fully 
trusted.     Under  this  action,  Dr.  Jeter  received  his  appointment. 

This  summons  fell  upon  him  as  a  great  surprise,  and  filled  him 
with  embarrassment.  He  was  then  an  old  man,  unable  to  speak 
the  Italian  language,  and  never  set  his  foot  on  European  soil, 
burdened  with  editorial  duties,  and  not  specially  adapted  to  the 
type  of  work  which  the  position  required.  He  expressed  grave 
misgivings  as  to  his  suitableness  to  the  work.  But  he  did  not 
know  how  to  deny  the  wishes  of  his  brethren.  He  said  that  he 
seriously  doubted  the  wisdom  of  his  appointment,  but  then  mod- 
estly added  that  while  he  could  not  do  anything  well,  he  had 
never  utterly  failed  in  anything  which  he  undertook,  except 
poetry-making. 

His  commission  imposed  several  duties.  First  of  all,  he  was 
requested  to  visit  Great  Britain  and  seek  to  enlist  the  English 
Baptists  in  the  European  Mission.  He  sailed  from  his  native 
shore  in  1872,  accompanied  by  his  wife.  The  departure  of  this 
white-haired  old  servant  of  God,  upon  so  solemn  an  errand, 
touched  many  hearts,  and  awakened  for  him  a  gentle  and  prayer- 
ful sympathy.  He  spent  several  months  in  traversing  England, 
Scotland  and  Wales,  making  addresses  and  appealing  for  help. 
He  was  received  everywhere  with  fraternal  consideration,  and 
realized  substantial  help  for  the  Italian  field. 

In  London  he  met  startling  rumors  of  disorders  in  the  Italian 
Mission.  He  was  told  that  the  Baptist  cause  in  Rome  had  be- 
come a  reproach  to  Protestantism.  This  alarmed  him  seriously, 
and  chilled  the  ardor  of  his  attempts  to  arouse  the  sympathy  of 
the  English  Baptists.  But  he  hoped  for  the  best,  and  prose- 
cuted his  agency  in  England,  until  November,  when  he  went  to 
Rome. 

Upon  his  arrival,  his  worst  fears  were  fully  justified.  He  found 
Dr.  Cote  and  Gioja  involved  in  disastrous  strife.  It  was  not  a 
mere  rupture  of  kindly  relations  between  conscientious  and  godly 
men.     It  went  deeper,  and  so  seriously  involved  the  influence  of 


410  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D, 

these  two  men,  as  to  make  it  necessary,  that  they  should  retire 
from  the  service  of  the  Board. 

Gioja  was  a  man  of  immense  cunning  and  malignity.  When 
he  ascertained  that  Dr.  Jeter  had  recommended  his  dismissal,  he 
was  furious,  and  undertook,  by  appeals  to  popular  prejudice,  to 
destroy  him.  He  preferred  against  him,  the  charge  of  ecclesiasti- 
cal tyranny,  and  instituted  proceedings  against  him  in  the  court. 
In  this  work,  it  is  said  that  he  was  abetted  by  some  ostensible 
friends  of  the  mission. 

Dr.  Jeter  became  satisfied  that  plans  were  on  foot  for  his  arrest, 
and  saw  that  he  was  likely  to  be  put  at  great  disadvantage.  After 
consideration,  and  with  the  advice  of  friends,  he  quietly  withdrew 
from  Rome  and  went  to  Geneva.  This  was  evidently  the  dictate 
of  discretion.  He  was  not  afraid  to  do  his  duty,  and  a  Roman 
prison  had  no  terrors  for  him,  if  it  stood  on  the  path  of  his  duty. 
But  he  was  a  cool-headed  old  gentleman,  and  had  not  a  trace  of 
that  fool-hardy  courage  which  courts  persecution  for  the  sake  of 
notoriety. 

The  chief  object  of  his  appointment  to  Rome  was  to  arrange 
for  the  building  of  the  Baptist  chapel.  That  end  he  was  not 
able  to  accomplish.  The  whole  amount,  then  in  hand,  for  the 
building  did  not  much  exceed  twenty  thousand  dollars,  and  he 
soon  found  that  the  purchase  of  an  eligible  lot  would  consume  the 
bulk  of  that  sum.  As  he  was  not  authorized  to  contract  debt,  he 
sought  to  purchase  a  building  suitable,  as  a  habitation  for  the  lit- 
tle church.  In  this  attempt  he  encountered  great  obstacles. 
Questions  of  location,  price  and  title  sorely  perplexed  him,  and 
he  finally  retired  from  Rome  without  accomplishing  the  chief  end 
contemplated  in  his  appointment.  In  two  respects,  however,  his 
wisdom  proved  most  serviceable.  He  did  not  recklessly  spend 
the  money  of  the  Board,  and  he  did  preserve,  intact,  the  Baptist 
organization  in  Rome,  wThich  was  put  in,  supreme  peril,  by  its  dis- 
cordant leaders.  The  Board  Avas  more  than  satisfied  with  the 
manner  in  which  he  discharged  his  commission. 

Dr.  Jeter  had  long  desired  to  visit  the  Old  "World.  Just  after 
the  war,  he  planned  a  trip,  but  abandoned  it,  on  account  of  an 
"  abnormal  contraction  of  the  sinews."  Beyond  doubt,  he  was 
influenced  in  part  to  accept  his  appointment  to  Rome,  by  his 


IN  THE  EDITORIAL  CHAIR.  41 1 

desire  to  travel.  That  his  sojourn  in  Europe  had  its  pleasures, 
and  advantages  is  not  to  be  doubted.  But  it  was  not  a  pleasure 
trip  by  any  means.  He  had  little  time  for  sight-seeing.  He  was 
too  busy  to  patronize  ruins,  art-galleries,  or  historic  scenes.  His 
hands  were  full  of  work,  and  his  brain  was  vexed  by  ceaseless 
and  blinding  perplexities.  In  a  single  sentence  he  condenses  the 
history  of  his  painful  trials  in  Rome  : 

"  In  the  whole  course  of  my  experience  I  have  never  found 
myself  more  painfully  perplexed,  than  I  have  been  in  regard  to 
the  matters  of  the  Rome  Church." 

In  the  later  spring  of  1873,  the  Board  released 
him  from  his  engagement,  and  he  returned  to 
America.  By  a  happy  coincidence  he  reached 
Richmond  on  the  day,  for  the  assembling  of  the 
great  Baptist  Memorial  meeting,  held  June,  1873. 
His  first  appearance  before  his  brethren,  was  on  the 
stand  in  the  mammoth  Tabernacle,  on  the  college 
campus,  in  which  the  memorial  services  were  held. 
He  stepped  forward  during  the  collection  to  pledge 
his  second  thousand  dollars  for  Richmond  College. 
When  the  great  throng  caught  sight  of  his  happy, 
beaming  face,  they  broke  into  grateful  and  tumultu- 
ous applause.  He  gave  his  pledge  and  then  said : 
"  Surely  of  all  this  crowd,  I  am  the  happiest  man  to- 
day." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

PERSONAL  TRAITS. 

IT  is  a  long  journey  which  we  have  taken  in  com- 
pany with  Dr.  Jeter.     Joining  him,  while  yet  a 

child,  in  his  Bedford  home,  we  have  attended 
him  along  his  course,  watching  his  growth,  and  sur- 
veying the  scenes  of  his  labors.  Thus  far,  we  have 
dealt  more  with  his  conduct  than  with  his  character, 
and  have  had  more  to  do  with  his  movements,  than 
with  his  motives. 

We  secure  the  fullest  view  of  men  when  we 
observe  them  from  the  double  standpoint  of  what 
they  are,  and  what  they  do.  We  will  turn,  therefore, 
from  his  history,  to  study  Mm,  as  nature  had  made 
him,  and  as  art  and  grace  had  ennobled  him.  This 
chapter  will  bring  under  review  his  endowments, 
his  habits  and  his  social  relations.  While  it  is  not 
designed  here,  to  touch  particularly  his  christian 
virtues,  it  will  be  found  that,  in  him,  the  natural  had 
passed  under  the  reign  of  the  spiritual. 

Dr  Jeter's  physique  was  absolutely  superb.  It 
combined,  in  itself,  almost  every  advantage  that  a 
mere  body  could  have.  He  was  lofty  and  stately — 
so  much  so  that  he  towered  like  a  giant  among  his 
fellows.  The  old  barbaric  worship  for  bodily 
strength  and  prowess  has  not  entirely  disappeared. 
412 


PERSONAL  TRAITS.  413 

The  world  can  never  cease  to  admire  majestic  forms. 
It  is  said  that,  when  Dr.  Jeter  was  in  Paris,  he  and 
another  eminent  American,  also  of  magnificent  pro- 
portions, appeared  one  morning,  on  the  street,  in 
company.  They  created  a  sensation.  The  curious 
Parisians  paused  in  groups,  to  observe  them,  and  some 
of  them  pursued  them  under  the  fancy  that  they 
were  the  twin  giants. 

To  a  noble  height  he  added  erectness.  His  well- 
braced  shoulders,  roundness  of  limb  and  easy 
movement  gave  a  pleasing  grandeur  to  his  bearing. 
Toward  the  last,  there  was  a  slight  droop — a  leaning 
forward,  as  he  walked — but  when  he  began  to  speak, 
he  instantly  became  erect.  His  face  and  neck  were 
long — too  long  to  appear  well — and  this,  with  a  too 
sharp  slanting  of  his  shoulders,  diminished  the  grace 
of  his  outline  when  on  the  platform.  His  upper  lip 
was  so  excessively  long  that  it  was  a  theme  of 
mirthful  jest.  After  meeting  one  of  his  sisters,  I  re- 
marked to  him  that  she  resembled  him.  He  knew 
that  the  likeness  was  in  their  lips,  and  tacitly  con- 
fessed it,  by  saying:  "My  sister  is  a  fine  woman,  but 
over-endowed  in  the  matter  of  an  upper  lip."  His 
character  was  in  his  lips.  When  he  compressed 
them  together,  they  were  very  eloquent,  though 
silent,  witnesses  of  his  intense  thought  and  prodigious 
will. 

During  most  of  his  life,  he  enjoyed  superior  health. 
Now  and  then,  he  had  local  and  temporary  disorders, 
and  often  suffered  annoyance, from  that  "constitution- 
al cough  "  which,  for  a  long  time,  he  believed  would 
end  in  consumption.     But  these  things  rarely  laid 


414  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

him  aside  from,  his  work  or  depressed  his  spirits. 
As  a  piece  of  machinery,  his  body  was  well-nigh 
perfect.  It  ran  smoothly  for  nearly  eighty  years,  and 
had  immense  force,  for  self-correction  and  re- 
cuperation. 

He  descended  from  long-lived  families,  and  evident- 
ly inherited  the  vigor  of  his  maternal  ancestry  and 
the  buoyant  spirit  of  his  father.  He  grew  up  in  the 
Piedmont,  and  was  inured  to  the  work  of  the  plan- 
tation. His  youth  was  happily  free  from  all 
enfeebling  vices.  He  had  an  innate  respect  for  his 
body.  He  studied  the  laws  of  hygiene,  and  sought 
to  apply  them  to  his  own  case.  He  rarely  fell  sick, 
and  had  an  intense  repugnance  to  strong  medicines. 
He  never  embraced  the  theory  of  the  homoeopathists, 
but  he  believed  in  their  medicinal  pellets,  and  often 
used  them.  He  said  they  were  sure  to  cure  him 
when  he  was  not  much  sick. 

He  was  a  model  sleeper.  He  had  his  hours  for 
rest,  and  when  his  time  came  for  going  to  bed,  he 
went,  and  when  he  went,  he  slept.  It  was  a  rule 
with  him,  not  to  make  bed-fellows  of  his  troubles. 
Before  retiring,  he  spent  a  season  in  prayer,  and  cast 
his  cares  upon  the  Lord.  Unless  out  of  health,  he 
speedily  fell  asleep,  and  rarely  awoke  until  he  had 
slept  enough.  It  was  one  of  his  sayings,  that  sleep 
and  prayer  would  solve  the  gravest  problems.  His 
wife  relates  that,  several  years  before  his  death,  he 
returned  home,  one  evening  in  a  state  of  painful 
agitation.  He  had  suddenly  found  himself  involved 
in  a  business  embarrassment,  so  unexpected  and 
grievous,  that  he  seemed  to  be  quite  unstrung.     He 


PERSONAL  TRAITS.  415 

knew  not  what  to  do,  and  his  anxiety  imparted  it- 
self to  his  wife.  At  the  hour  for  retiring,  he  cut 
short  the  conversation,  took  his  burden  to  the  Lord, 
lay  down  upon  his  bed,  and  was  soon  sleeping  as 
sweetly  as  a  child.  His  wife  tossed  upon  her  pillow, 
until,  far  in  the  night,  she  sank  into  unquiet  slumber. 
A  little  after  daybreak,  he  aroused  her,  and  in  a 
cheery  voice  said  :  "  It  is  all  right.  I  see  my  course 
and  will  take  it."  That  was  the  end  of  the  trouble. 
His  pillow  and  the  mercy  seat  had  brought  relief. 

Dr.  Jeter  was  a  wise  eater.  He  ate  with  a  relish, 
and  energy  which  betokened  a  keen  appetite.  He 
was  not  a  bit  fastidious,  and  said  that  he  liked  almost 
every  species  of  food,  except  sturgeon.  His  digestive 
organs  once  had  a  tilt  with  that  sea  monster,  which 
proved  to  be  a  life-long  discomfiture.  He  could 
not  afterwards  taste  or  smell  sturgeon,  without 
the  utmost  revulsion.  He  rarely  ate  anything 
except  at  his  meals,  and  then  he  partook  sumptuously 
and  with  marked  enjoyment.  He  seemed  to  have  no 
temptation  to  eat  to  excess. 

In  his  later  life  he  set  high  value  upon  recreation,  as 
an  indispensable  feature  in  the  economy  of  life.  He 
was  about  as  devout  in  resting,  as  he  was  in  praying. 

One  of  his  modes  of  exercise  was  walking.  He 
was  fond  of  it,  and  being  long-limbed  and  quick- 
jointed,  he  walked  with  great  rapidity.  He  had  a 
pedestrian  pride,  which  made  him  anxious  to  out- 
walk those  who  indicated  a  pity  for  him,  on  account 
of  the  supposed  infirmities  of  age.  He  retained  his 
alertness,  as  a  walker  to  the  last,  and  was  never  slow 
to  exhibit  his  speed  when  occasion  offered. 


416  '  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

A  well-known  citizen  of  Richmond  relates,  that  in 
going  down  into  the  city,  one  morning,  he  met  the  old 
Doctor,  and  they  walked  along  in  company.  Find- 
ing that  he  was  moving  at  a  rapid  pace,  the  gentle- 
man checked  himself  and  apologized.  He  remarked 
that  he  had  such  a  reputation  among  his  friends 
for  fast  walking,  that  they  avoided  him,  lest  they 
should  wear  themselves  out  to  keep  up  with  him.  He 
slackened  his  speed,  and  proposed  to  walk  slowly  for 
the  Doctor's  benefit.  That  put  the  old  man  on  his 
mettle.  He  said,  that  he  was  not  aware,  that  they 
were  walking  fast  at  all,  and  added,  in  a  bantering 
tone,  that  as  the  gentleman  was  light  of  foot,  they 
would  move  more  briskly.  He  quickened  his  step, 
and  with  long  and  swinging  strides,  bore  speedily 
away,  leaving  his  overmatched  companion  to  bring 
up  the  rear.  The  gentleman  says,  that  they  had  not 
gone  far,  before  he  found  himself  afflicted  with  such 
a  pain  in  his  ankles,  that  he  forged  an  excuse  for 
taking  another  street. 

Dr.  Jeter  was  devoted  to  horseback  exercise.  It 
could  hardly  be  expected,  that  one  of  his  build  would 
attain  any  grace  as  an  equestrian,  but  he  sat  his  horse 
with  handsome  ease,  and  cut  a  fine  figure,  as  in  the 
morning,  on  his  well-groomed  gray,  he  clashed  down 
into  the  city,  or  went,  cantering  out  on  the  avenues, 
in  the  afternoon.  He  was  proud  of  his  gray  steed, 
almost  as  well-known  in  the  city  as  his  master,  but 
Pearl,  as  he  called  him,  served  him  a  sorry  trick,  one 
day,  by  not  only  falling  with  him,  but  upon  him. 
That  event  came  near  turning  his  recreation  into  a 
catastrophe. 


PERSONAL  TRAITS.  417 

But  his  favorite  amusement  was  croquet.  For 
indulging  in  that  game  he  was  much  criticised,  and 
some  of  his  brethren  regarded  it,  as  a  sad  breach  of 
christian  propriety.  They  grievously  misjudged 
him.  He  often  suffered  with  headache  and  brain 
torpor,  and  found  that  some  exercise  was  a  necessity. 
Croquet  suited  him  exactly.  It  threw  him  into  the 
open  air,  required  quick  and  incessant  motion,  gave 
him  pleasant  company,  and  aroused  his  passion  for 
contest.  Primarily  he  played  for  exercise,  and  he 
said,  it  mattered  not  who  got  the  game,  provided  he 
got  his  recreation. 

But  he  played  to  beat.  He  entered  the  struggle 
with  the  ardor  of  a  boy,  and  relished  a  triumph  as 
keenly  as  any  man  I  ever  saw,  and  when  absorbed 
in  a  game,  was  oblivious  of  all  besides.  He  was  once 
in  a  game  with  several  gentlemen,  and  had  every- 
thing working  in  his  favor.  He  was  intensely  inter- 
ested, and  while  playing,  he  caught  another  ball,  and 
roqueted  it,  sending  both  balls  whirling  across  the 
yard,  and  setting  out  in  a  double-quick  after  them. 
Unluckily,  his  foot  hung  in  a  wicket,  and  he  stumbled, 
and  fell  to  the  ground.  It  was  a  jarring,  racking 
fall.  He  groaned,  and  rubbed  his  limbs  with  such 
evident  pain,  that  the  company  gathered  in  anxious 
sympathy  around  him.  It  was  feared,  that  he  was 
seriously  hurt,  but  he  brought  matters  to  a  sudden 
and  ludicrous  end,  by  excitedly  asking  "  Where  is  my 
ball?" 

He  was  an  honest  player.  He  would  have  robbed 
a  bank  as  soon  as  he  would  have  taken  the  slightest 
advantage  in  a  game  of  croquet.  He  would  not  con- 
27 


418  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.J). 

tend  over  doubtful  questions,  and,  though  sometimes, 
pitted  against  fretful  and  discourteous  antagonists,  he 
never  lost  his  temper.  He  was  once  playing  a  game 
with  a  cross  and  ill-natured  woman,  who  charged  his 
side  with  dishonesty.  He  bore  it  with  serene  dignity, 
until  the  game  ended,  and  then  quietly  withdrew, 
without  a  word  of  comment. 

His  character  came  out  admirably  on  the  croquet- 
ground.  The  game  finely  illustrated  his  mental 
peculiarities.  He  struck  with  singular  accuracy,  and 
few  surpassed  him  in  making  the  wickets.  Those 
were  simple,  straightforward  things.  He  worked 
steadily  to  gain  the  post,  and  failed  to  take  into 
account,  the  difficulties  which  his  enemies  might 
throw  in  his  way.  He  never  evinced  much  skill,  in 
planning  the  game,  and  if  left  to  himself,  often  fell  a 
victim  to  the  superior  adroitness  of  his  adversaries. 
But  I  was  often  struck  with  the  fact,  that  his  plod- 
ding, direct  playing,  while  sometimes  interrupted  by 
the  tricks  of  the  other  side,  bore  him  along,  and  not 
seldom,  to  victory.  He  gained  about  as  much,  from 
the  miscarriages  of  his  more  scheming  antagonists,  as 
he  lost  by  his  own  lack  of  strategic  skill.  And  this, 
indeed,  was  the  way  in  which  he  won  his  highest 
successes  in  the  more  solemn  contests  of  life.  His 
simplicity  overmatched  the  shrewdness  of  his  oppo- 
nents. After  all,  though  many  glory  in  the  arts  of 
indirection,  it  remains  morally,  as  well  as  mathemati- 
cally, true  that  a  straight  line  is  the  shortest  distance 
between  two  points.  He  played  croquet  on  christian 
principles,  and  so  conscientious  was  he,  that  he  once 
said  that  he  could  go,  without  dread,  from  the  cro- 
quet-ground to  the  judgment  bar  of  God. 


PERSONAL  TRAITS.  419 

In  the  matter  of  dress,  Dr.  Jeter  was  an  example. 
He  had  an  ambition  to  appear  well,  and  insisted  that 
ministers  ought  to  dress  attractively.  He  enjoyed 
good  clothes,  and  seemed  a  little  conscious,  when  well 
arrayed.  He  always  clung  to  broadcloth,  and  I 
cannot  recall  that  I  ever  saw  him  wear  any  kind  of 
hat,  except  a  beaver.  He  wore  upright  collars  and  the 
old-time  stock — probably  in  compassion  for  his  elon- 
gated neck.  He  did  his  best  dressing  in  his  last 
days — partly,  because  he  could  better  afford  it,  but 
chiefly,  I  suppose,  because  stimulated  by  the  superior 
taste  and  loving  authority  of  his  wife. 

In  temperament,  Dr.  Jeter  was  mercurial.  He  had 
French  blood  in  his  veins,  which  may  have  given 
that  volatility  to  his  nature,  which  so  strongly 
marked  him.  There  was  something  strangely  unique 
in  his  varying  moods.  His  exultation  was  real,  and 
often  amounted  to  rapture.  He  was  capable  of  the 
highest  exhilaration.  And  then  he  could  drop  very 
low.  He  could  groan  with  an  unction  that  was  pos- 
itively refreshing.  There  was,  however,  a  glimmer 
of  sunlight  over  his  sadness.  The  only  half-hearted 
thing  about  him  was  his  misery.  He  could  not  pro- 
duce a  strong  case  of  melancholy.  His  lamp  of 
hope  burned  dimly,  at  times,  but  never  went  out.  If 
he  began  to  grow  gloomy,  he  soon  came  in  sight  of 
the  ludicrous.  His  ordinary  trials  seemed  to  have  a 
sportive  side.  During  the  war,  he  was  with  several 
ministers  who  were  deploring  the  apathy,  and  dearth 
among  the  churches.  They  spoke  dismally  of  their 
own  religious  states,  and  seemed  on  the  verge  of  de- 
spair.    Dr.  Jeter  sat  silent,  his  face  cast  down,  his 


420  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

eyes  half-closed,  a  picture  of  despair.  A  brother 
said  :  "  Dr.  Jeter,  what  have  you  to  say  about  these 
things?"  His  face  took  on  a  deeper  shade  as  he 
said  :  "  I  feel  as  if  I  had  fallen  from  grace."  It  was 
an  odd  speech,  and  surprised  us,  but  it,  at  least, 
made  us  all  feel  better. 

Here  is  an  incident  decidedly  characteristic : 

This  disposition  to  expose  the  laughable  side  of  a  serious  thing 
was  very  strong.  It  sometimes  served  him  in  rebuking  the  bad 
tempers  and  exploding  the  prejudices  of  people.  I  was  once  with 
him  in  a  protracted  meeting  in  the  country.  One  day  several 
dogs  got  into  the  church  and  seriously  disturbed  the  services. 
The  pastor  was  quite  outraged.  He  fired  a  furious  volley,  at  the 
dogs  and  their  owners,  and  seemed  so  disgusted,  that  he  could  not 
be  restored  to  composure.  After  we  returned  to  his  home  in  the 
evening,  he  resumed  the  subject,  evidently  to  the  annoyance  of 
Dr.  Jeter,  who  suddenly  proposed  to  deliver  a  lecture  in  behalf 
of  dogs.  He  gave  some  capital  stories  about  church-going  dogs, 
and  made  such  a  kindly  plea  for  the  canine  race,  that  the  irate 
pastor  was  squelched. 

Dr.  Jeter  was  not  a  wit, — a  fact  which  he  well 
knew ;  but  he  possessed  a  brimming,  infectious  and 
kindly  humor.  He  was  fond  of  telling  stories,  espe- 
cially those  of  the  jocose  and  laughable  type.  He 
excelled  most  in  relating  a  grave  incident  which 
contained  a  funny  episode. 

In  his  early  days,  he  told  many  stories  in  which 
others  played  the  ludicrous  part ;  but  he  said  that 
he  met  his  punishment,  for  thus  parading  human 
frailties,  in  the  fact,  that  his  favorite  anecdotes  were 
afterwards  repeated  far  and  wide  with  himself  al- 
ways put  in  as  the  ludicrous  actor. 

During  a  familiar  association  with  him  for  more 


PERSONAL  TRAITS.  421 

than  a  quarter  of  a  century,  I  never  heard  him  utter 
a  word  which  savored  of  irreverence,  indelicacy  or 
uncharitableness. 

Many  coarse  anecdotes  and  sayings  were  attrib- 
uted to  him,  which  were  utterly  foreign  to  his  na- 
ture, and  which,  indeed,  it  would  have  been  morally 
impossible  for  him  to  utter.  Nothing  mortified  him 
more  than  to  be  reminded,  that  such  tainted  stories 
were  circulated  with  his  spurious  imprint  upon  them. 

The  Doctor  was  not  much  given  to  laughing,  and 
I  must  candidly  admit,  that  his  vocal  infirmities 
went  far  to  deprive  his  laughter  of  its  contagious 
charm.  His  smile  was  magnificent, — so  luminous 
and  expressive,  that  it  not  only  clothed  his  counte- 
nance with  spiritual  beauty,  but  spread  a  mellow 
light  on  all  about  him. 

He  had  one  weakness  which,  while  not  peculiar 
to  him,  was  excessive  in  his  case.  When  his  risibles 
were  once  shaken,  he  had  no  power  to  control  them. 

He  was  not  easily  provoked  to  laughter;  but 
when  the  humor  struck  him,  laugh  he  would,  regard- 
less of  propriety  or  consequences.  Of  this  he  gives 
the  following  example : 

"  On  my  first  visit  to  Richmond,  an  event  occurred  in  which  it  is 
hard  to  say  whether  the  sad  or  comical  predominated.  I  had  in 
Lynchburg  formed  the  acquaintance  of  a  Brother  H.  and  his  good 
wife,  who  had  removed  to  Richmond.  They  were  poor,  pious 
and  respectable.  We  were  glad  to  meet  after  a  year  or  two  of 
separation  so  far  from  the  place  where  our  intimacy  commenced. 
I  was  invited  to  dine  with  them,  and  readily  accepted  the  invita- 
tion. They  occupied  an  upper  story,  the  front  room  being  a  few 
feet  higher  than  the  rear.  The  table  was  set  in  the  front  room, 
near  the  door  opening  into  the  back  one.  The  dinner  was,  no  doubt, 


422  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

the  best  that  the  amiable  family  could  provide.  We  had  par- 
taken of  it  heartily  and  were  sitting  at  the  board,  engaged  in 
pleasant,  social  converse.  By  some  chance,  Sister  H.  lost  her 
balance  and  fell  backwards  through  the  door,  and,  in  her  fall, 
grasping  the  table-cloth,  carried  all  the  table  ware,  with  a  crash, 
on  the  depressed  floor  of  the  rear  room.  It  was  a  sad  accident. 
The  lady  was  painfully  bruised,  the  crockery  was  broken  and 
the  remnants  of  meats,  pies  and  preserves  were  mingled  in  sor- 
rowful confusion.  To  add  to  the  trouble,  Brother  H.  was  in 
feeble  and  declining  health  and  little  able  to  repair  the  damage 
that  had  been  done.  The  good  man  lamented  his  loss,  and  his 
excellent  wife,  forgetful  of  all  else,  mourned  over  her  pains  and 
bruises.  I  sympathized  with  them  and  could  have  wept  over 
their  distress ;  but  the  scene  had  a  ludicrous  as  well  as  a  sorrowful 
aspect.  I  knew  that  laughing,  under  the  circumstances,  would 
be  unseemly  and  offensive.  I  resolved  that  I  would  not  indulge 
in  it.  I  have,  however,  under  strong  temptation,  never  been  able 
to  control  my  risible  faculties.  On  this  occasion  I  had  a  severe 
struggle.  I  restrained  my  laughter  as  long  as  possible,  put  my 
head  under  the  side  of  the  table  to  conceal  it,  and  finally  burst 
into  a  vociferous  laugh.  I  was  ashamed,  mortified,  humbled,  but 
had  not  the  self-control  to  apologize  for  my  rude  and  unseemly 
behavior.  Had  I  possessed  the  means,  I  would  gladly  have  re- 
stored the  table-furniture,  but  the  contents  of  my  purse  were  almost 
exhausted.  I  sympathized  not  the  less  with  my  friends  because 
I  laughed  at  their  ludicrous  misfortune." 

I  insert  here  several  stories  illustrative  of  his 
mirthful  and  mirth-provoking  nature  : 

"  During  one  of  his  later  summers,  he  was  at  the  Buffalo  Lithia 
Springs,  a  quiet,  health  resort  in  Southern  Virginia.  It  was 
one  of  the  devout  customs  of  the  place,  to  have  prayers  in  the 
public  parlors,  every  morning.  On  a  certain  occasion  the  Doctor 
was  requested  to  conduct  the  exercises.  He  selected  for  the 
Scripture  lesson  the  last  chapter  of  Romans,  which  has  much  to 
say  about  saluting  the  brethren  and  sisters.  He  paused  to  re- 
mark at  the  end  of  the  reading  that  the  holy  kiss  was  common  in 


PERSONAL  TRAITS.  423 

apostolic  days,  but  that  it  soon  fell  out  of  use.  '  It  was  found,  he 
said :  '  That  the  less  devout  of  the  brethren  were  disposed  to  salute 
only  the  comely  sisters  and  then  the  men  would  not  salute  each 
other.  A  man  kissed  me  when  I  was  in  Europe,  but  I  confess,  I 
did  not  relish  it.'  " 

"  Dr.  Jeter  sometimes  upset  the  gravity  of  the  meeting  by  his 
remarks  when  he  had  no  thought  of  doing  so.  In  1879  the  Gen- 
eral Association  met  in  Danville,  Va.  When,  on  the  first  even- 
ing the  organization  was  completed,  it  was  proposed  to  have  a 
season  of  prayer.  A  brother  suggested  that  we  pray  especially 
for  our  brethren  who  were  kept  away  by  affliction.  He  spoke  of 
the  sickness  of  Dr.  C.  and  Dr.W.,  and  then  said  :  '  It  may  not  be 
known  that  our  honored  brother,  Dr.  B.,  passed  through  Danville 
to-day  from  the  South,  bringing  the  remains  of  his  mother  to  be 
buried  at  the  old  homestead  in  Virginia.'  It  was  a  hushed  and 
tender  moment — too  much  so  for  Dr.  Jeter.  He  arose  and  sought 
to  soothe  the  sorrow  of  the  brethren.  '  It  is  very  proper,'  he  said, 
'  to  sympathize  with  the  afflicted,  but  it  is  well  to  know  the  facts, 
so  as  not  to  sorrow  over  much.  As  for  Dr.  C,  he  is  not  sick  much ; 
I  saw  him  yesterday.  And  as  for  Dr.  W.,  I  think  he  will  be 
here  to-morrow,  and  as  for  Dr.  B.,  it  is  not  his  mother  who  is  dead 
but  his  mother-in-law.'  The  effect  of  his  speech  was  an  explosion. 
It  quite  mortified  him,  and  knocked  the  solemnity  out  of  the 
meeting.     He  never  saw  the  joke." 

"  He  sometimes  did  a  serious  thing  in  a  comical  way.  I  recall 
an  instance.  There  was  a  meeting  held  one  evening,  not  long  be- 
fore his  death,  at  the  Grace  Street  Church,  in  the  interest  of  tem- 
perance. He  was  not  one  of  the  appointed  speakers,  but  was 
present,  and,  just  before  the  close  of  the  exercises,  was  invited  to 
offer  some  remarks.  The  call  was  quite  unexpected,  and  he 
walked  slowly  upon  the  lower  platform,  holding  his  hat  in  one 
hand  and  his  cane  in  the  other.  He  began  to  talk  in  a  slow,  in- 
formal style,  resting  his  hand  upon  his  cane,  but  soon  he  became 
animated.  It  was  impossible  for  him  to  speak  without  gesture. 
As  he  warmed  to  his  subject  he  gradually  lifted  his  hand  and 
with  it,  of  course,  his  cane.  To  his  long  arm  was  added  the 
length  of  the  cane,  and  when  he  got  fully  under  way  he  used  his 
cane  in  the  wildest  and  most  vigorous  gesticulation.     At  one  mo- 


424  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

ment  he  would  point  it  into  the  audience,  as  if  he  had  a  man  before 
him  that  he  proposed  to  castigate  on  the  spot,  and  then  lifting  it  he 
would  whirl  it  in  the  air  as  if  he  had  discovered  a  new  victim  for 
his  vengeance  in  the  gallery.  I  doubt  whether  human  gesture  ever 
swept  so  large  a  circle  before  or  since  as  his  did  that  night.  It 
was  very  laughable,  and  yet  decidedly  impressive." 

"  Dr.  Jeter's  greatness  was  most  strikingly  exhibited  in  his  idio- 
syncrasies and  mistakes.  He  never  committed  a  commonplace 
blunder.  In  doing  what  he  ought  not  to  have  done,  he  did  it  so  as 
to  leave  upon  the  act,  the  impress  of  his  character.  His  weaknesses 
were  the  signs  of  his  strength.  It  was  easy  to  smile  at  his  slips, 
but  not  at  him.  At  times  his  blunders  upset  him,  leaving  him 
vacuous  and  silent.  This  was  not  always  so ;  often  he  would  re- 
cover speedily  and  turn  the  laugh  in  another  direction.  He  once 
arose  to  speak  in  the  Southern  Baptist  Convention.  It  was  his 
first  apearance  on  the  floor  at  that  meeting,  and  every  eye  was  on 
him.  In  attempting  to  call  a  brother's  name  he  made  a  mistake 
so  odd  and  surprising  that  the  house  roared  with  laughter.  He 
stood  sober  and  serene  until  the  noise  ceased,  and  then  smilingly 
remarked  :  '  If  mistakes  were  hay-stacks  some  of  us  might  start  a 
feed-store.'  " 

"  At  a  church-meeting,  two  brethren  were  nominated  for  a  place 
on  a  committee.  He  put  the  vote  on  the  nominee  thus  :  '  Those 
in  favor  of  brother  B.  say  '  Aye,"  those  in  favor  of  brother  P.  say 
'No.' '  This,  of  course,  created  amusement,  and  it  was  finally  de- 
cided to  add  both  men  to  the  committee.  As  this  made  it  an 
even  number  some  brother  objected,  and  nominated  brother  R., 
so  as  to  have  an  odd  number.  Dr.  Jeter  at  once,  and  with  feigned 
gravity  said :  "  Those  in  favor  of  making  the  committee  odd  by 
putting  brother  R.  on  it  will  please  say  'Aye.'  " 

"  The  story  seems  to  be  authentic  that  he  once  solemnly  pro- 
posed to  close  a  meeting  by  singing  the  benediction  and  pronoun- 
cing the  Doxology." 

I  cannot  speak  at  any  great  length  of  the  intel- 
lectual endowments  of  Dr.  Jeter.  As  his  produc- 
tions have  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  public,  they 
must  stand  as  the  exponents  of  his  mental  forces. 


PERSONAL  TRAITS.  425 

A  few  paragraphs  only  can  be  devoted  to  the  discus- 
sion of  these  qualities. 

Dr.  Jeter  was  not  a  genius,  if,  by  this  term,  we 
understand  some  extraordinary  talent  for  a  particu- 
lar line  of  work.  He  had  really  no  salient,  over- 
shadowing faculty  which  made  him,  exceptionally 
strong,  in  any  one  direction.  His  strength  lay  not  in 
one  gift  nor  in  several,  but  in  the  variety,  vigor  and 
balance  of  his  powers.  He  was  not  phenomenally 
strong  at  any  point;  but  then  he  was  not  weak  at  any 
point:  He  was  strong  everywhere,  and  in  the  com- 
bination of  so  many  mental  forces,  he  was  very  strong. 

It  was  commonly  said  that  he  was  feeblest  in  his 
imagination.  This  I  never  believed,  and  those  who 
read  his  "Christian  Mirror"  and  kindred  writings 
would  be  slow  to  embrace  such  a  view.  In  his  old 
age,  he  was  afraid  to  trust  his  imagination.  He  suf- 
fered so  many  disasters,  in  his  vivid  and  pictorial 
sermons,  that  he  gradually  became  afraid  to  indulge 
in  that  style  of  preaching.  He  drew  his  pictures 
with  admirable  distinctness  and  delicacy,  and  had 
them  clear  in  his  own  mind ;  but  he  often  failed  in 
presenting  them.  His  imagination  was  cowed,  by 
public  miscarriages,  and  in  his  maturer  life,  was  not 
kept  on  active  duty. 

But  he  had  a  really  strong  and  active  imagina- 
tion. It  was  vigorous  in  its  power  to  conceive,  com- 
bine and  construct.  His  conceptions  were  clear;  his 
combinations  were  simple  and  harmonious,  and  his 
structures  were  symmetrical  and  complete.  In  his 
youth,  before  he  had  become  so  deeply  chastened  by 
his  failures,  his  imagination  had  intense  grip  and  glow. 


426  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Mr.  Sands  relates  that  Dr.  Jeter  once  preached  a 
sermon  at  the  First  Church,  in  which  he  described 
the  Grecian  races.  He  says  that  his  pictures  were 
so  graphic  and  brilliant,  that  they  brought  the  whole 
scene  before  the  audience,  in  a  manner,  that  was  ab- 
solutely thrilling.  In  1862  I  heard  him  preach  his 
famous  sermon  on  Onesiphorus.  It  was  in  a  country 
church,  and  to  a  small  and  plain-minded  congregation. 
His  description  of  the  judgment  day  was  wonderful 
in  its  vividness,  and  impressed  the  people  almost  as 
deeply,  as  if  the  real  scene  had  been  before  them. 

Dr.  Jeter  failed  to  cultivate  faithfully  his  imagina- 
tion. His  tastes  took  him  in  other  directions.  He 
would  have  been  a  better  preacher,  if  he  had  given 
freer  rein  to  his  fancy.  He  was  an  advocate  of  de- 
scriptive sermons,  but  he  was  afraid  to  try  them.  His 
imagination  worked  better  at  his  desk,  than  on  the 
platform.  It  occurred  to  me  that  his  thin,  and,  at 
times,  inflexible  voice  was  unfriendly  to  the  noblest 
performances  of  which  his  imagination  was  capable. 

His  mind  was  of  the  logical  rather  than  of  the 
metaphysical  order.  For  abstruse  speculations  he 
had  neither  taste  nor  capacity,  but  for  truth  in  the 
concrete,  and  in  its  relations  to  other  things,  he  j>os- 
sessed  a  rare  power  of  apprehension.  Dr.  A.  B.  Brown 
said,  very  finery,  of  him  that  he  had  no  great  gift  for 
splitting  a  hair,  but  that  he  knew  as  well  as  any  liv- 
ing man  when  there  was  a  hair  to  split,  and  how  it 
ought  to  be  done.  He  always  studied  truth  in  its 
roundness  and  in  its  most  delicate  shadings.  He 
could  tell  a  thing  exactly  as  it  was. 

He   thought   very   widely.     Problems   in  almost 


PERSONAL  TRAITS  427 

every  branch  of  human  thought  interested  him.  He 
was  often  exercised  about  questions,  in  jurisprudence, 
and  he  would  ransack  law-books,  or  invade  the  offices 
of  jurists  in  quest  of  light.  There  formerly  lived  in 
Richmond,  a  lawyer  who  had  a  great  name  for  erudi- 
tion, and  was  supposed  to  be  encyclopedian  in  forensic 
lore.  Dr.  Jeter  went  to  him  with  several  knotty 
questions,  connected  with  the  science  of  law,  and 
never  in  a  single  case,  gained  the  desired  information. 
He  had  great  reverence  for  experts  and  loved  to 
consult  them,  but  the  sequel  often  proved  that  he 
was  better  posted  than  they  were. 

In  a  former  chapter,  much  was  said  as  to  the 
freakishness  of  his  memory.  In  point  of  fact  his 
memory  was  wonderful.  It  laid  hold  upon  facts  read- 
ily, and  clung  to  them  with  a  dogged  tenacity.  What 
he  once  learned  he  rarely  forgot.  In  reading  his 
"  Recollections"  one  is  made  to  feel  that  to  him,  the 
past  of  his  life  was  an  open  book.  His  recollections 
of  men  were  distinct,  varied  and  vivid.  The  year 
before  his  death  I  had  him  in  company  with  Doctors 
J.  L.  M.  Curry,  T.  H.  Pritchard,  E.  W.  Warren  and 
others  to  a  dinner-party  at  my  house.  That  day  we 
succeeded  in  turning  the  old  man's  thoughts  back- 
ward  to  the  great  men  whom  he  had  known  in  the 
earlier  prime  of  his  manhood.  He  summoned  them 
forth,  as  with  a  magician's  wand,  painted  them  with 
such  distinctness  that  they  seemed  to  stand  before 
our  eyes,  and  poured  forth  a  torrent  of  incidents 
which  charmingly  illustrated,  what  manner  of  men 
they  were.  I  recall  now  his  portraiture  of  John 
Kerr — with  his  grand  form,  his  deep  sonorous  voice, 


428  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

his  flaming  fancy,  preaching  in  a  grove,  in  the  face 
of  a  stiff  wind,  on  a  raw,  shivering  day,  and  yet,  so 
intoxicating  the  people  with  his  eloquence,  that  they 
quit  their  seats,  and  packed  in  solid  mass  around  the 
platform. 

His  memory  was  not  perfect,  and  he  often  lamented 
his  forii-etfulness.  This  is  the  misfortune  of  all 
thoughtful  men.  Dr.  Jeter  was  a  constant  learner, 
and  he  retained  unusually  well  his  acquisitions. 
His  power  to  recall  was  excellent,  except  when  on 
the  platform.  When  he  sat  down  to  write,  the  store- 
house of  the  past  seemed  to  be  unlocked  before  him. 
His  pen  was  the  wand,  with  which  he  called  back  just 
such  things  as  at  that  moment  he  happened  to  need. 

He  possessed  in  marvellous  measure  the  power  of 
concentration.  He  could  throw  all  of  his  mental 
forces  on  a  single  point,  and  hold  them  there.  When 
deeply  engaged  in  the  study  of  some  important 
question,  it  was  hard  to  call  him  away.  He  could 
never  treat  an  intruder  with  rudeness,  but  in  many 
nameless  ways,  he  could  satisfy  him  that  he  would  enjoy 
nothing,  so  much  as  his  departure.  Of  course  he  had 
to  endure  the  reproach  of  absent-mindedness.  Per- 
sons who  had  very  little  mind,  either  present  or 
absent,  were  fond  of  expatiating  on  the  old  doctor's 
absent-mindedness.  His  mind  was  often  absent 
from  those  people,  but  it  was  happily  present  with 
other  and  more  congenial  things.  If  some  favorite 
theme  possessed  him,  he  took  it  with  him  into  the 
street,  or  upon  the  train  and  tugged  at  it  in  the 
midst  of  his  journeys.  Now  and  then,  he  talked  to 
himself  in  tones  easily  audible  to  others,  but  it  was 


PERSONAL  TRAITS.  429 

always  on  deep  and  valuable  topics.  While  in  those 
moods,  he  would  walk  by  his  dearest  friends,  without 
speaking,  or  even  seeing  them,  and,  sometimes  with- 
out speaking,  even  when  he  saw  them. 

His  intellectual  enthusiasm,  intense  in  youth, 
knew  no  abatement  in  age.  He  never  grew  weary 
of  investigation.  He  was  always  on  the  trail  of 
thought.  He  studied  to  the  last,  and  with  a  zeal  as 
fresh  and  thirsty  as  that  which  distinguished  him  as 
a  boy.  In  the  current  events  of  the  times  he  took 
the  liveliest  interest.  If  there  was  a  war  in  Asia, 
he  could  not  rest  until  he  had  acquainted  himself 
with  the  causes  of  the  strife,  the  parties  involved, 
and  the  fortunes  of  the  struggle.  If  a  new  discovery, 
or  invention  was  announced,  he  went  to  work  to  find 
out  its  author,  and  its  merits.  He  kept  posted  as  to 
public  affairs.  He  was  acquainted  with  the  history 
and  constitution  of  our  country — watched  the  move- 
ments of  political  parties,  and  felt  the  deepest  con- 
cern as  to  the  welfare  of  the  State.  When  he  died, 
his  body  was  placed  in  the  Grace  Street  Church  that 
those  who  desired,  might  take  a  last  look.  Among 
those  who  came  was  Mr.  Holliday,  then  Governor  of 
Virginia,  who,  when  he  stood  by  his  coffin,  said ; 
"  Here  lies  the  man,  by  whose  counsel  and  sympathy, 
I  have  been  more  strongly  sustained,  in  my  official 
duties,  than  by  any  other  man  in  Virginia."  What 
he  thought  ought  to  be  done,  he  fearlessly  advocated, 
and  looked  upon  public  officers,  as  the  servants  of 
the  people,  through  whom  he  might  promote  the 
public  good. 

Dr.  Jeter  had  a  will  of  his  own — not  of  steel  but 


430  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

of  iron.  If  he  had  been  a  man  without  reverence 
and  humility,  he  would  have  made  a  superb  tyrant. 
Truth  had  enlightened  him,  grace  had  softened  him, 
and  reason  swayed  him.  And  yet  he  was  not  easy 
to  conquer.  He  would  bend,  but  it  was  hard  to  break 
him.  When  he  took  a  stand,  his  tracks  were  deep, 
and  he  was  hard  to  move.  His  will  was  gradually 
brought  under  the  dominion  of  his  conscience  and 
affections,  and  in  his  ripened  days  he  was  firm,  with- 
out stubbornness,  determined  without  obstinacy,  and 
persistent,  without  intolerance.  He  was  too  conscien- 
tious to  be  defiant,  and  too  gentle  to  be  overbearing. 
In  closing  this  description  of  his  traits  I  add  an 
extract  from  a  fine  article  written  concerning  him, 
by  Dr.  J.  C.  Long  of  Crozer  Theological  Seminary : 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  give  an  analysis  of  his  powers  and 
character.  His  mind  was  clear  and  comprehensive.  He  could 
see  all  around  a  subject  as  well  as  into  and  through  it.  It  was, 
perhaps,  owing  to  his  penetration  and  grasp  of  thought  that  he 
was  so  bold  and  independent  in  thinking.  With  little  imagina- 
tion or  fancy  he  had  a  sound  and  vigorous  judgment.  In  a  word, 
he  Avas  a  man  whose  great  powers  were  under  the  control  of  in- 
vincible common  sense.  He  had  no  sinuosities  of  character.  He 
took  the  simplest,  most  direct  means  to  accomplish  his  ends.  His 
candor  Avas  rare  and  beautiful.  In  coming  days  he  will  be  men- 
tioned with  Hall,  and  Fuller,  and  Foster,  and  Carey,  and  Judson, 
and  Wayland.  He  fell,  indeed,  far  below  Hall  in  eloquence  and 
learning ;  he  did  not,  like  Foster,  touch  the  deeper  and  more  subtle 
springs  of  moral  action,  and  he  did  not,  like  Fuller,  exert  a 
moulding  influence  on  the  theology  of  his  age.  But  in  personal 
influence,  in  developing  the  spirit  of  our  denomination,  and  in 
creating  and  controlling  denominational  agencies,  he  did  not  fall 
behind  the  greatest  of  his  English  brethren.  He  and  Dr.  Way- 
land  did  not  move  in  the  same  plane  ;  in  many  things  they  were 


PERSONAL  TRAITS.  431 

very  unlike  each  other ;  but,  friends  during  life,  they  stand  to- 
gether as  the  two  Baptists  who  have  exerted  the  widest  and  most 
wholesome  influence  on  the  religious  history  of  our  country. 

HIS  PRACTICAL  TALENT. 

Shrewd  men  often  shed  their  flippant  sneers  at  the 
expense  of  ministers,  on  account  of  their  supposed 
lack  of  common  sense.  They  forget  that  the  proof 
that  a  man  has  common  sense,  is  found  in  the  fact 
that  he  does  well  the  business,  which  he  takes  in 
hand.  The  best  evidence  that  a  preacher  can  give 
of  his  common  sense,  is  that  he  is  successful  in  his 
ministerial  work.  Judged  by  this  standard,  Dr.  Jeter 
was  eminently  a  practical  man. 

For  what  is  popularly  called  business,  he  had  no 
taste.  He  never  set  before  him,  money-making  as 
one  of  the  ends  of  his  life.  He  never  touched  busi- 
ness, except  as  a  necessity.  He  said  that  it  would 
suit  him  exactly,  to  have  only  what  was  needful  for 
his  comfort,  and  for  benevolent,  uses  without  the  care 
of  ownership.  He  lived  for  noble  pursuits.  The 
affections  of  his  heart,  and  the  energies  of  his  life 
were  devoted  to  his  Redeemer's  cause. 

And  yet  it  was,  of  course,  necessary  that  he  should 
give  his  attention  to  the  temporalities.  He  had  a 
few  business  maxims  which  guided  him  in  affairs  of 
business.  He  was  thoroughly  scrupulous  in  the 
matter  of  keeping  out  of  debt.  It  was  a  fixed  rule 
with  him,  to  live  within  his  income.  It  was  a  point 
of  conscience  with  him  to  buy  nothing,  he  could  not 
pay  for.  He  had  a  natural,  as  well  as  a  moral,  horror 
of  debt.  He  loathed  it  as  a  bondage,  and  recoiled 
from  it,  as  from  a  plague.     He  mentioned  it,  as  a 


432  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

ground  of  thanksgiving,  in  his  last  sickness,  that  he 
was  out  of  debt. 

He  was  a  fair  buyer.  He  never  higgled  or  wran- 
gled over  the  price  of  an  article.  He  was  willing 
to  pay  the  market  value,  and  spurned  to  trade  on  his 
cloth.  While  connected  with  the  Religious  Herald, 
he  insisted  that  the  employees  should  be  paid  full 
wages,  and  that  they  must  have  their  money,  though 
nothing  was  left  for  the  proprietors. 

He  was  a  pleasant  man  to  work  for.  Those  who 
touched  him  in  a  business  way,  were  captivated  by 
his  evident  honesty  and  charming  urbanity  of  man- 
ner. He  was  free  from  contention,  slow  to  complain, 
and  easy  to  please.  It  is  possible  that  he  was  some- 
times deceived  by  the  superior  smartness  of  others ; 
but  not  to  his  serious  detriment.  His  fairness  often 
shamed  bad  men  into  honesty,  when  trading  with 
him.  He  was  quick-sighted  and  usually  saw  things 
at  their  real  value.  If  men  attempted  to  cheat,  or 
circumvent  him,  he  was  apt  to  find  it  out,  and  while 
he  said  nothing  about  it,  he  did  not  expose  himself 
to  their  wiles  a  second  time. 

He  often  said  that  he  could  not  spare  the  time  to 
attend  to  his  business.  If  he  could  save  a  half  hour, 
by  pa}dng  a  higher  price  for  an  article,  or,  even  by 
taking  an  article  of  inferior  quality,  he  would  do  so. 

It  was  only  when  he  could  not  avoid  it,  that  he 
ventured  into  the  marts  of  trade. 

If  the  gentle  power  behind  the  throne  ordained 
that  he  must  have  a  new  suit  of  clothes,  he  went  to 
his  tailor,  carefully  selected  the  goods,  inquired  the 
price,  had   his   measure  taken,  escaped    as  soon  as 


PERSONAL  TRAITS.  433 

possible,  and  probably  never  thought  of  the  matter 
again,  until  the  bundle  was  handed  in  at  his  door. 
If  he  was  compelled  to  go  to  market,  he  went,  pro- 
vided he  didn't  forget  it. 

And  if  he  went,  he  probably  bought,  either  double 
the  amount  that  was  needed,  or  something  that  was 
not  needed.  Dr.  Ryland  relates  the  homely  story, 
that,  during  the  life  of  his  second  wife,  he  went  one 
morning  to  the  market,  and  invested  in  a  venerable 
goose,  which  Mrs.  Jeter  declared,  required  three  dis- 
tinct cookinsrs  to  render  edible.  After  that  ex- 
perience  the  gentle  lady  issued  a  decree  permanently 
depriving  him  of  the  right  or  privilege  of  trading  in 
the  public  market. 

It  is  worthy  of  record,  that  while  Dr.  Jeter  never 
gave  himself  to  the  pursuit  of  wealth,  he  began  life 
in  poverty,  lived  in  comfort,  gave  with  conspicuous 
generosity,  had  his  share  of  misfortunes  and  losses, 
and  yet  succeeded  in  acquiring  a  modest  fortune. 

HOME    LIFE. 

It  is  little  to  say  of  a  good  man,  that  he  is  wedded 
to  his  home.  It  is  only  another  way  of  saying,  that 
he  is  true  to  the  profoundest  wants  of  his  being.  If 
unhappy  in  his  domestic  relations,  his  public  char- 
acter cannot  be  satisfactory.  But  men  differ  greatly 
in  this  respect.  Some  are  dependent,  and  to  them 
home  is  a  refuge  ;  some  are  sensitive,  and  easily 
wounded  by  the  slings  and  whips  of  life,  and  to  them 
home  is  an  asylum ;  and  some  are  restless,  ambitious 
and  over-worked,  and  home  for  them  means  rest. 
Dr.  Jeter  was  large-hearted,  trustful  and  strong,  and 
28 


434  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

to  him  home  meant  love,  confidence  and  fellowship. 
It  helped  him  to  be  loved,  and  it  was  his  life  to  love. 
Home  filled  a  place  in  his  heart  which,  otherwise, 
must  have  remained  locked  and  empty. 

It  seems  surprising  that  his  domestic  affections 
were  so  ardent.  In  his  youth  he  knew  little  of  the 
beauty  and  joy  of  home,  except  that  which  he  found 
in  the  proud  and  ever-inspiring  love  of  his  mother. 
After  he  entered  the  ministry,  he  was  immersed 
in  public  duties,  loaded  with  official  labor,  and 
wedded  to  the  seclusion  of  his  study.  His  habits 
did  not  favor  the  cultivation  of  the  homely  virtues. 

Then,  too,  his  domestic  career  was  sadly  che- 
quered. Three  times,  his  home  was  wrecked  by  the 
hand  of  death,  and  often  he  was  called  upon  to 
change  the  place  of  his  abode.  He  never  knew  that 
ripened  sanctity  which,  through  the  passing  years, 
gathers  around  a  single  spot,  investing  it  with  holy 
memories  and  hallowing  sorrows. 

He  said  that  he  looked  upon  it,  as  the  direst  afflic- 
tion of  earth,  that  his  marriage  relations  were  so 
often  broken.  The  sword  that  pierced  him,  left 
wounds  which,  never  fully,  healed.  From  the  grave 
of  his  dead,  he  turned  tremblingly  to  the  task  of  re- 
building his  shattered  homestead.  He  entered  into 
marriage  always  with  sobriety  and  prayerful  caution. 

His  several  wives  were  excellent  women.  His 
reverence  for  womanhood  was  deep,  and  he  was  no- 
tably susceptible  to  the  charms  of  the  fair.  But  he 
never  lost  his  senses  in  the  days  of  his  wooing. 
He  was  never  enslaved  by  a  silly  woman.  His 
marriages  were  prudent,  and  each  wife,  in  her  turn, 


PERSONAL  TRAITS.  435 

seemed  to  be,  providentially,  suited  to  him  at  the  dif- 
ferent stages  of  his  life.  Indeed,  it  was  easy  for 
him  to  be  happy.  His  genuineness,  his  simplicity 
and  flexibility  enabled  him  to  accept  his  lot  with 
cheerful  grace. 

He  was  a  good  husband — a  statement  not  always 
true  of  men  formed  for  public  life.  Dr.  Ryland  .says 
that  in  middle  life,  Dr.  Jeter  was  not  so  gallant 
and  courtly  as  he  ought  to  have  been,  but  he  was 
always  forbearing,  and  sincerely  anxious  to  please. 
I  knew  him  well  in  his  later  days,  and  was  impressed 
with  his  fine  bearing  toward  his  wife.  He  allowed 
her  a  broad  margin,  and  was  never  exacting.  If 
not  very  fond,  he  was,  at  least,  kind,  genial  and  con- 
siderate. I  could  not  quite  put  into  words  the  im- 
pression that  he  made  upon  me  as  a  husband,  but,  in 
some  way,  I  came  to  think,  that  he  was  just  the  hus- 
band that  would  fill  the  heart  of  a  good  woman,  and 
that  all  men  might  safely  copy  his  example. 

There  was  something  matchlessly  charming  in  his 
bearing  towards  the  wife  of  his  old  age.  She  was 
the  tower  of  his  strength,  his  pride,  his  counsellor, 
and  to  her,  he  confided  the  secrets  of  his  heart. 
They  were  rarely  separated,  and,  if  he  could  have 
his  way,  she  alwa}^s  accompanied  him  in  his  travels. 
When  I  applied  to  her,  for  letters  to  be  used  in  the 
preparation  of  this  volume,  she  had  to  confess  that 
there  were  none — simply  because  they  were  sepa- 
rated only  on  brief  occasions. 

Busy  men  are  often  boorish  and  stupid  in  their 
homes.  They  give  their  vitality  and  energy  to  the 
world,  and  then   curse  their  households,  with  their 


436  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

sighs  and  sulks.  Dr.  Jeter  was  not  always  in  flow- 
ing spirits.  He  worked,  too  closely,  to  be  much  with 
his  family,  and  now  and  then  he  lounged  into  the 
sitting-room  in  abstracted  and  taciturn  moods.  But 
he  was  never  surly  or  impatient.  The  clatter  and 
romp  of  children  did  not  upset  him.  He  would 
often  frolic  with  the  little  ones,  or  tell  them  merry 
stories.  He  had  the  elements  of  a  tease,  and  enjoyed 
a  practical  joke.  He  sometimes  perpetrated  jests  on 
his  wife,  which  were  not  always  agreeable,  but  if  he 
ever  gave  offence,  he  was  quick  to  make  amends.  I 
drop  here  two  homely  stories  : 

"  Once  his  wife  was  taken  suddenly  ill  in  the  night.  He  was 
much  alarmed,  and  gave  her,  the  most  considerate  care.  She  was 
relieved,  and  appeared  at  the  breakfast-table  the  next  morning. 
He  returned  thanks  for  her  recovery,  and  seemed  unusually  jubi- 
lant. But  when  he  grew  excited,  his  feelings  inevitably  drifted 
him  into  the  vicinity  of  the  comical.  Assuming  a  sombre  mien 
he  asked  his  wife  if  she  knew  what  he  was  thinking  about  while 
she  was  so  sick.  She  replied  that  she  supposed  he  was  duly  oc- 
cupied in  devising  means  for  her  recovery.  '  Well,  yes,'  he  said, 
'  I  was  anxious,  indeed,  for  you  to  get  well,  and  am  glad  that  you 
did,  but  I  could  not  help  from  thinking  that,  if  you  died,  what  a 
worry  it  would  be  to  me  to  have  to  branch  out  and  look  for 
another  wife.' 

"  This  reminds  me  of  another  trustworthy  tradition.  He  was 
once  sent  for  by  an  hysterical  woman  who  was  supposed  to  be 
dying.  When  he  entered  the  room,  she  said  to  him,  '  I  have  sent 
for  you,  Dr.  Jeter  for  an  important  purpose.  I  feel  that  I  am 
near  my  end,  and  I  have  been  trying  to  induce  my  husband  to 
promise  me  not  to  marry  again — and  I  want  you  to  help  me.' 

"'  Don't  do  it  brother  ;  don't  do  it,'  Dr.  Jeter  said,  addressing 
the  husband.  '  I  would  not  make  that  promise  to  any  woman.' 
She  had  evidently  sent  for  the  wrong  man.  His  remark  made 
her  so  mad  that  she  got  well." 


PERSONAL  TRAITS.  437 

In  the  post-bellum  times,  his  home  was  elegantly 
furnished,  and  his  board  was  luxurious  and  hospit- 
able. During  a  certain  Baptist  convention,  his  house 
was  filled  with  guests,  and  they  were  charmingly  en- 
tertained. On  the  last  day  as  the  company  gathered 
at  the  dinner  table,  the  Doctor  grew  suddenly  sober. 
"  Brethren,"  he  said,  "  I  am  sad  to-day.  It  grieves 
me  that  you  are  going  away.  How  I  will  miss  you  ! 
I  hardly  know  how  I  will  get  along,  when  you  are 
gone." 

The  brethren  were  moved.  They  began  to  say 
what  a  fine  time  they  had  had,  how  grateful  they 
were,  how  they  would  miss  him,  etc. 

With  a  yet  sadder  face,  he  said,  "  Excuse  me 
brethren  ;  you  misunderstand  me.  It  is  about  my- 
self I  am  thinking.  We  don't  live  this  way  all  the 
time.  My  wife  will  make  me  suffer  for  all  these 
grand  dinners  we  have  been  having." 

It  was  a  jest  in  which  he  could  afford  to  indulge. 
It  little  mattered  with  him  what  he  ate,  and  his 
table  never  lacked  for  palatable  supplies. 

Dr.  Jeter  actually  revelled  in  hospitality.  He 
hailed  it  as  a  privilege.  He  had  nothing  too  good 
for  his  brethren.  His  home  was,  rarely,  without  com- 
pany. With  not  a  few  persons,  it  was  understood 
that  when  they  came  to  Richmond,  they  were  to  be 
his  guests.  His  kindred  always  found  it  pleasant  to 
cross  his  threshold,  and  in  his  fellowship,  had  a  feast 
of  fat  things.  But  it  was  his  crowning  joy  to  enter- 
tain the  preachers.  He  never  hesitated  to  pick  up 
the  visiting  brother,  and  bring  him  to  meals,  or  to 
spend   the  night.     The  only   limit  upon  his  hospi- 


438  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

tality  was  found  in  the  exigencies  of  his  work.  His 
mornings  he  reserved  for  his  studies,  and  on  that 
point,  he  was  inexorable. 

His  type  of  hospitality  was  distinctively  social. 
It  is  true  that  the  poor,  often,  sat  at  his  table,  and  he 
was  ready  to  divide  his  last  loaf  with  the  needy. 
But  his  social  nature  yearned  for  sympathy.  He 
was  ever  ready  to  accept  the  hospitality  of  others, 
and  was  often  out  to  dinners  and  suppers,  though  he 
seemed  happiest  when  he  could  gather  into  his  own 
parlors,  those  whose  intelligence  and  piety  made 
them  responsive  and  congenial.  To  his  guests  he  was 
courtly  and  obliging.  He  would  take  them  in  his 
carriage  in  the  afternoon,  and  show  them  the  sights 
of  the  city,  and  his  evenings  were  cordially  spent  in 
their  entertainment. 

Dr.  Jeter,  in  his  social  habits,  had  an  upward  look. 
He  struck  for  the  best.  He  revered  successful  men, 
and  paid  willing  court  to  those  who  had  won  emi- 
nence in  their  special  line.  He  had  an  open  respect 
for  those  who  had  official  rank,  and  yet  more  for 
those  who  had  filled  high  places,  with  acknowledged 
faithfulness.  He  said  office  was  not  always  worthily 
bestowed,  but  that,  usually,  it  indicated  merit.  He 
was  apt  to  call  on  distinguished  men  when  they  came 
to  Richmond,  and  this  he,  sometimes,  did  as  an  act  of 
respect  for  their  position.  When  in  1865  Mr.  Pier- 
pont  came  to  Richmond,  as  governor  of  a  people,  who 
had  not  chosen  him  and  did  not  desire  him,  he  called 
on  him.  On  the  occasion  of  Mr.  Hayes'  visit  to 
Richmond,  he  called  on  him  in  token  of  his  consider- 
ation for  the  presidential  office. 


PERSONAL  TRAITS.  439 

He  did  not  love  money,  but  he  had  decided  respect 
for  men  who  had  won  distinction  in  money-making. 
He  liked  rich  people,  provided  they  were  reputable 
and  decent.  Even  for  fashionable  people,  he  evinced 
a  respectful  attention.  He  was  not  above  or  below 
any  class  of  society.  He  touched  the  social  fabric  at 
every  point.  He  said  that  he  never  met  but  one  re- 
buff, in  approaching  persons  of  aristocratic  preten- 
sions. During  a  summer  at  the  White  Sulphur 
Springs,  he  sat  at  the  same  table  with  a  woman  quite 
high  in  the  social  circles  of  Richmond.  Though  not 
acquainted  with  her,  he  knew  of  her,  and  after  ex- 
changing table  courtesies  for  several  days,  he  ven- 
tured to  give  her  his  name,  and  speak  in  kind  terms 
of  her  husband  whom  he  knew.  Upon  learning  that 
he  was  a  Baptist  minister,  she  repelled,  almost 
scornfully,  his  approaches.  Her  curtness  clipped 
his  plumes  for  a  season,  but  he  related  the  incident 
afterwards  with  a  smile,  which  had  in  it  no  cynical 
suggestion.  He  did  not  hold  society  responsible  for 
the  brainless  pride  of  one  of  its  members. 

In  his  rich  and  joyous  life,  there  was  one  sad  void. 
God  never  blessed  him  with  living  children.  This 
was  a  sore  deprivation.  He  was  a  child-lover,  and 
longed  for  children  of  his  own.  He  said  of  his 
third  marriage,  that  he  hoped  it  would  bless  him 
with  a  dozen  children.  That  wish,  cherished  with 
true  patriarchal  longing,  was  denied,  and  so  hungry 
was  his  heart,  for  child-company  that  he  adopted  an 
orphan  girl,  named,  Bessie  Bradley.  He  took  her  to 
his  heart,  gave  her  his  name  and  invested  her  with 
the  privileges   of  a    daughter.     A   lovely,  grateful 


440  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

child  she  was,  and  she  clung  to  him  with  an  affec- 
tion as  deep  and  true,  as  that  which  he  gave  to  her. 
Under  his  roof,  she  grew  to  womanhood,  and  just 
before  his  death,  he  gave  her  in  marriage  to  Mr.  J. 
B.  Woodard.  She  bore  a  son,  and  called  him  Jeter, 
and,  then  dying,  was  buried  in  Hollywood,  near  the 
spot  where  he  sleeps. 

When  he  married  Mrs.  Dabbs,  she  also  had  an 
adopted  child, — a  little  boy,  named,  Philip  Stratton. 
Him,  also,  Dr.  Jeter  adopted,  and  after  exercising 
over  him  faithful  care,  educated  him  for  the  medical 
profession.  He  is  now  a  practitioner  in  North  Car- 
olina, and  worthily  wears  the  name  of  his  adopted 
father. 

He  also  received  into  his  family,  two  little  nieces 
of  Mrs.  Jeter,  and  while  not  adopted,  they  shared 
fully  his  fatherly  kindness,  until  their  marriage. 
The  elder  is  now  Mrs.  Merrie  Sugg,  of  Virginia,  an 
accomplished  and  useful  Christian  lady;  the  latter 
is  the  beautiful  and  brilliant  wife  of  H.  A.  Tupper, 
Jr.,  of  Kentucky. 

It  would  hardly  seem  possible,  that  a  household 
thus  constructed,  at  a  late  point  in  his  life,  and  out 
of  fragments  taken  from  three  other  families,  would 
ever  become .  homogeneous.  But  it  did.  It  was  a 
compact,  genial  and  delightful  household. 

He  was  too  busy  to  be  often  with  his  children,  but 
he  evinced  the  sweetest  affection  and  the  most  gene- 
rous concern  for  them.  His  discretion,  kindness  and 
patience  were  more  than  matched  by  the  admirable 
discipline  and  fidelity  of  his  wife. 

For  some  years  before  his  death,  he  had  in  his  fam- 


PERSONAL  TRAITS.  441 

ily  a  maiden  lady,  Miss  Emily  Brown.  She  was  a 
true,  faithful  woman  and  a  valuable  auxiliary  of 
Mrs.  Jeter  in  the  management  of  her  home.  Indeed 
she  assumed  the  bulk  of  domestic  care,  and  did 
much  to  promote  the  order,  taste  and  beauty  of  the 
house.  She  knew  his  ways  and  delighted  to  minis- 
ter to  his  wishes.  In  his  last  sickness,  she  assisted 
in  nursing  him,  and  no  tears  dropped  upon  his  bier, 
were  more  lovingly  sorrowful  than  her's.  When  he 
died,  she  declared  that  he  had  never  wounded  her  by 
a  sharp  word  or  an  angry  frown.  In  grateful  re- 
membrance of  her  services,  he  made  provision  for 
her  in  his  will. 

Many  whose  eyes  trace  these  pages,  will  recall 
Dr.  Jeter's  home  at  the  corner  of  First  and  Grace 
Streets,  in  old  Richmond.  A  quiet,  unpretending 
brick-house,  without  park  or  fountain  ;  with  passages 
too  narrow  for  convenience,  and  with  rooms  too 
small  for  comfort.  But  what  a  home  it  was  !  With- 
in reigned  the  spirit  of  Him  who  brought  peace,  and 
light  and  love  to  the  earth.  There  lived  the  dear 
old  man  of  God,  with  his  devout  family,  and  there, 
he  did  his  last  best  work.  Many  of  us  rang  its  bell, 
sat  at  its  board,  enjoyed  its  fellowship  and  bowed  at 
its  altar. 

Death  and  change  have  done  their  cruel  work. 
Its  inmates  are  scattered,  and  strangers  have  taken 
their  places.  The  little  study  in  the  rear,  dearest 
of  all  earthly  spots  to  him,  where  he  loved  to  pray, 
and  work,  has  been  robbed  of  its  books  and  desks, 
and  he  has  gone  out  to  come  back  no  more. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

CHRIST  IN  HIM. 

ON  the  22d  of  February,  1858,  I  stood  on  the 
Capitol  Square  at  Richmond,  Va.,  and  witnessed 
the  unveiling  of  the  equestrian  statue  of  Wash- 
ington. It  was  a  chill  and  stormy  day,  and  yet  the 
park  was  crowded.  When  the  veil  fell  off,  and  the 
horse  and  rider  broke  upon  public  view,  a  great  shout 
rent  the  air.  Bands  played  patriotic  airs ;  an  orator 
pronounced  an  eulogy,  and  a  poet  sang  the  honors  of 
the  great  American. 

Mine  is  an  humbler  task.  I  venture  to  unveil,  as 
best  I  can,  the  christian  character  of  J.  B.  Jeter. 
This  I  do,  not  in  the  midst  of  roaring  cannon,  nor 
martial  music,  nor  swelling  pomp,  nor  yet  with  the 
hope  of  arousing  the  noisy  enthusiasm  which  on  that 
memorable  day,  burst  forth  in  honor  of  Washington. 
It  will  be  an  ample  reward  for  me  if,  by  uncovering 
a  well-finished  christian  life,  I  can  magnify  the  trans- 
forming grace  of  God,  and  stimulate  in  some,  a 
yearning  for  a  better  life. 

Dr.  Jeter  was  a  christian  for  nearly  sixty  years. 
Before  his  conversion  he  was  an  upright,  self-contained 
youth.  His  moral  sensibilities  had  not  been  blunted, 
nor  his  soul  blistered  by  the  flames  of  evil  passion. 
The  gospel  can  reach  low,  and  lift  the  degraded, 
442 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  443 

but  happy  is  he,  who  can  enter  Christ's  kingdom,  un- 
stained by  vice  and  unshackled  by  bad  habits. 

Of  course,  there  were  evil  possibilities  within  him. 
His  ambition  was  prodigious,  and  if  it  had  mastered 
him,  who  can  tell,  to  what  lengths  it  would  have 
borne  him  ?  His  love  of  preeminence — that  unhal- 
lowed craving  for  the  highest  seat — was  his  sore 
besetment.  Passionate,  impatient  of  control  and 
mischievous,  he  was  not  always  quick  to  respect  the 
rights  of  others.  Without  local  attachments,  and 
bent  on  adventure,  he  was  fair  game  for  the  tempter. 
Such  was  the  boy,  upon  whom  the  Lord  laid  his  hand 
in  1821,  and  summoned  into  his  service.  His  con- 
version was  genuine,  and  of  its  reality,  he  never  had 
a  serious  doubt. 

We  are  to  study  him,  not  so  much  in  the  processes 
of  his  growth,  as  in  the  maturity  and  completeness  of 
his  character.  We  may,  at  least,  pause  at  the  threshold 
to  mark  the  maxims  and  habits  which  entered  into 
the  formation  of  his  spiritual  life.  He  started  with 
one  single  purpose — that,  to  give  himself,  without 
reservation,  to  the  service  of  God.  It  was  the  guiding 
principle  of  his  life.  It  held  him  and  kept  him. 
His  feelings  were  moody  and  variable,  but  his  cove- 
nant abided.  He  was  the  Lord's  by  solemn  compact, 
and  there  he  stood,  fixed  and  unshakened. 

His  faith  in  the  gospel  was  vital.  He  never  knew 
the  unhinging  power  of  a  real  doubt.  Nothing  was 
great  to  him  but  Christ,  and  he  was  "  all  and  in  all." 
He  saw  him  in  experience,  in  providence  and  in  the 
Scriptures.  He  lived  in  fellowship  with  the  Father, 
and  with  his  Son  Jesus  Christ. 


444  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Dr.  Jeter  was  not  emotional  in  his  piety.  He 
tended  in  the  direction  of  system,  regularity  and 
punctiliousness  in  his  religious  habits.  Not  that  he 
was  destitute  of  feeling,  but  he  was  devout  and 
reverential  even  without  emotion.  He  was  about  as 
faithful,  in  his  attention  to  the  means  of  grace  in 
times  of  coldness,  as  he  was  in  seasons  of  revival. 
Indeed,  while  he  often  deplored  his  leanness  of  soul, 
he  never  got  very  cold. 

He  was  a  devotional  student  of  the  Scriptures. 
He  read  the  Bible  for  his  own  sake — read  it  every 
day — read  it,  often,  upon  his  knees.  He  had  copies 
of  the  Scriptures  for  his  personal  use,  and  read  them 
literally  to  pieces.  A  number  of  these  were  found 
in  his  study,  after  his  death,  and  they  had  been  so 
marked  and  worn,  that  they  were,  no  longer,  fit  for  use. 

Nor  was  he  less  devoted  to  secret  prayer.  He 
never  measured  his  prayers  by  rules,  nor  prayed  by 
schedule.  I  do  not  suppose  that  he  spent  as  much 
time  upon  his  knees,  as  Payson  or  Clopton,  but  he 
prayed  regularly  and  irregularly.  When  he  arose  in 
the  morning,  he  immediately  repaired  to  his  study, 
and  engaged  in  private  devotions.  These  could 
hardly  be  called  secret,  for  his  prayers  were  often 
heard  beyond  the  limits  of  his  little  sanctuary.  He 
often  prayed  in  the  night,  and  upon  his  bed.  Prayer 
was  his  remedy  for  insomnia.  It  is  known  that  he 
rarely  went  to  sleep,  without  folding  his  arms  upon 
his  breast  and  repeating  the  devout  hymn — 

"  Father,  whate'er  of  earthly  bliss 
Thy  sovereign  will  denies, 
Accepted  at  a  throne  of  grace, 
Let  this  petition  rise : 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  445 

"  Give  me  a  calm,  a  thankful  heart, 
From  every  murmur  free  ; 
The  blessings  of  thy  grace  impart, 
And  make  me  live  to  thee. 

"  Let  the  sweet  hope  that  thou  art  mine, 
My  life  and  death  attend  ; 
Thy  presence  through  my  journey  shine, 
And  crown  my  journey's  end." 

Dr.  Dunnaway  mentions  the  fact  that  whenever 
Dr.  Jeter  went  to  conventional  meetings,  if  a  time 
was  set  apart  for  devotional  exercises,  he  always 
attended,  and  entered  heartily  into  every  part  of  the 
worship.  He  looked  upon  prayer  as  the  key  which 
unlocked  all  mysteries. 

"  Before  entering  upon  any  enterprise  he  would  first  seek  the 
Divine  guidance  in  prayer.  When  he  conceived  the  idea  of  de- 
voting himself  to  editorial  work,  he  called  one  morning  on  Dr. 
Dickinson  and  said  :  "  I  call  to  see  you  on  an  important  matter. 
I  propose  to  unite  with  you  in  establishing  a  Baptist  weekly  in 
this  city.  Think  over  it,  and  pray  over  it,  and  I  will  see  you 
again."  To  pray  over  the  matter  was  all  that  was  then  proposed 
as  the  first  and  most  important  step  in  the  enterprise." 

Dr.  Jeter's  piety,  like  his  temperament,  was  mer- 
curial. When  he  was  converted  he  fell  into  the 
notion  of  the  times,  that  a  man's  religion  was  in  pro- 
portion to  the  sombreness  of  his  manner.  He 
undertook  to  encase  himself  in  the  grimness  of  the 
Puritan.  The  project  miscarried.  He  was  too  well 
converted,  and  too  spontaneously  joyful,  to  be  con- 
sistently gloomy.  His  sense  of  the  ludicrous  played 
havoc  with  his  asceticism.  He  laughed  at  his  simu- 
lated misery.     He  had  a  capital  liver;  indeed,  he 


446  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

said  that  he  did  not  know  that  he  had  a  liver,  and 
he  was  a  stranger  to  the  horrors  of  dj^spepsia.  His 
sunny  nature  was  a  medium  through  which  his 
spiritual  hopes  beamed  with  resplendent  glory. 
Though  full  of  thought,  and  ridged  with  care,  his 
face  glowed  with  a  soft  religious  light. 

He  was  a  real  man.  He  was  genuine  through 
and  through.  Between  his  seeming  and  himself, 
there  was  no  disharmony.  In  him,  there  was  no 
crookedness.  He  wore  no  masks.  He  was  inherently, 
subjectively,  essentially  honest.  The  reader  must 
have  found  out  already,  that  I  am  no  blind  eulogist 
of  Dr.  Jeter.  Of  his  errors  and  mistakes,  I  have 
spoken  with  unsparing  candor.  I  determined  in 
dealing  with  his  moral  and  religious  features,  to  set 
out  in  the  clearest  light,  his  wrongs  and  sins,  so  far 
as  I  could  find  them.  It  surprised  me  that  I  could 
not  put  my  hand  upon  anything,  in  his  later  life 
which  could  be  branded,  as  manifestly  wrong.  I 
appealed  to  others,  to  tell  me,  wherein  he  fell  short, 
and  needed  amendment.  They  confessed  that  they 
did  not  know.  He  was  so  high  in  his  consistency, 
so  sincere  in  his  nature,  so  transparent  and  true,  so 
broadly  charitable  and  gently  just,  that  I  could  find 
no  fault  in  him.  He  was  a  trophy  of  transforming 
grace.  The  gospel  had  finished  its  work  in  him. 
This  he  could  never  have  said,  and  yet  he  well-nigh 
implied  it,  in  the  oft-expressed  wish,  that  when  death 
came,  it  might  come  suddenly.  He  asked  for  no 
death-bed,  and  offered  no  prayers  for  dying  grace. 
Having  lived  faithfully,  he  was  not  afraid  to  die. 

It  is  customary  in  books  of  this  class,  to  emphasize 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  447 

every  quality  which  enters  into  the  constitution  of 
christian  character.  In  dealing  with  Dr.  Jeter,  I 
choose  to  select  only  a  few  conspicuous  traits  in  his 
religious  life,  and  will  let  them  stand,  as  samples  of 
the  whole. 

HIS  LOVE  OF  MEN. 

It  was  often  said  that  he  did  not  know  men. 
Shrewd  people  sneered  at  his  ignorance  of  human 
nature.  There  are  two  ways  to  find  out  men.  The 
first  is  by  suspicious  vigilance.  We  assume  that  they 
are  false,  and  need  to  be  watched.  It  is  a  mild  form 
of  the  detective  system.  We  eye  our  neighbor  as  a 
doubtful  character,  and  expect  to  catch  him  in  villany. 
The  other  is  by  trustfulness.  We  start  with  the 
supposition  that  men  are  upright,  and  mean  well. 
We  trust  them  and  put  them  upon  their  honor. 

Which  is  the  better  way?  The  former  has  its 
drawbacks.  It  wrecks  confidence,  fosters  suspicion 
and  makes  men  deceptive.  If  we  know  that  we  are 
watched,  it  only  increases  our  temptations  and  gives 
a  motive  for  concealment.  The  latter  appeals  to 
what  is  noble  in  the  human  soul.  It  rekindles  honor 
and  puts  men  on  their  good  behavior.  Nothing  goes 
farther  in  making  men  trustworthy,  than  to  trust 
them.  Many  will  cheat  a  trickster  who  would  deal 
fairly,  with  an  honest  man.  Men,  far  gone  in  shame, 
have  been  galvanized  into  momentary  honesty  by 
contact  with  trustful  men. 

Dr.  Jeter  believed  in  men.  He  treated  them  as 
gentlemen,  and  assumed  that  they  intended  to  do 
right.     Now  and  then,  he  was  over-reached  by  the 


448  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

wiles  of  the  unscrupulous.  A.  B.  Clarke,  Esq.,  him- 
self a  simple-hearted  christian  man,  and  for  years 
connected  with  the  Religious  Herald,  relates  that  a 
stranger  once  came  into  the  office,  represented  him- 
self as  a  Baptist  from  Ohio,  stated  that  he  had  lost 
his  money,  and  applied  to  Dr.  Jeter  for  relief.  He 
loaned  him  twenty  dollars,  upon  the  promise  of  its 
speedy  return.  He  was  never  heard  of  afterwards. 
The  oily  scamp  imposed  on  the  charity  of  the  kind 
old  man.  This  was  not  a  solitary  case,  and  yet  he 
was  probably  not  deceived  more  frequently,  than  he 
would  have  been,  if  he  had  been  more  suspicious. 
Cunning  people  are  notoriously  credulous. 

There  is  a  fellowship  in  goodness.  Dr.  Jeter's 
purity  and  ingenuousness  made  him,  keen-eyed  in 
detecting  merit.  The  unworthy  may  have  some- 
times outwitted  him,  but  he  rarely  committed  the 
mistake  of  repelling  the  meritorious.  He  lost  little 
by  trusting  bad  people,  and  gained  much  by  trusting 
good  people.  There  was  a  protective  quality  in  his 
own  goodness.  The  corrupt  and  scheming  were 
afraid  of  him,  and  very  few  got  the  advantage  of 
him. 

It  is  a  mistake  to  imagine  that  he  was  a  weakling 
in  dealing  with  men.  He  was  guided,  in  his  judg- 
ment, by  the  divine  standards.  He  despised  idleness, 
cant,  flattery  and  cunning.  When  he  turned  his 
two  blue  eyes  upon  a  stranger,  and  subjected  him  to 
an  examination,  he  could  find  out,  about  as  much  as 
a  professional  detective.  If  he  convicted  a  man  of 
rascality,  he  refused  to  help  him ;  if  he  stood  the  test, 
he  helped  him  freely ;  if  the  case  was  in  doubt,  he 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  449 

gave   the    applicant   the  benefit  of  the  doubt.     He 
sometimes  gave  money  to  the  unworthy,  to  get  rid  of' 
them.     He  would  pay  them  to  leave. 

His  opinions  of  men  were  high, — much  higher 
than  the  average.  It  often  astonished  me  to  find, 
how  thoroughly  he  respected  the  gifts  of  men  who 
were  far  inferior  to  himself.  He  rarely  expressed 
adverse  criticisms  of  sermons,  or  addresses  that  were 
devout  and  modestly  delivered ;  but  for  the  sopho- 
moric  and  pedantic,  he  had  a  contempt  which  he 
could  not  conceal.  It  has  been  said  of  him  that  he 
would  not  say  anything  of  a  man,  in  his  absence, 
that  he  would  not  say  in  his  presence.  It  would  be 
nearer  the  truth  to  say,  that  he  would  not  utter  in  a 
man's  absence,  the  criticisms  which  he  made  upon 
him,  when  present. 

He  had  his  ups  and  downs  with  men.  He  once 
told  me  of  a  minister  who  was  settled  in  Richmond 
for  several  years,  who  treated  him  with  a  reserve 
and  spitefulness  that  he  could,  neither  understand 
nor  cure.  He  tried  every  expedient,  in  the  way  of 
hospitality,  visits,  pulpit  courtesies  and  kindly  com- 
mendations, to  cast  the  evil  spirit  out  of  the  brother 
and  to  bring  him  around,  but  without  success.  Not 
long  before  his  death,  a  well-known  brother  became 
affronted  for  some  unknown  reason,  and  treated  the 
old  Doctor  with  a  frigidity  which  cut  him  to  the 
quick.  He  sought  anxiously  to  recover  his  favor, 
and  finally  succeeded. 

He  had  his  enemies,  or  at  least  he  was  sometimes 
treated  with  the  gravest  injustice.     In  one  of  his 
churches,  he  had  a  deacon  who  gave  him  great  trou- 
29 


450  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER   D.D. 

ble.  It  was  one  of  the  bitterest  trials  of  his  long 
•life.  He  was  a  man  of  superior  gifts,  high  position 
and  wide  influence,  and  he  used  his  power  to  the 
discouragement  and  injury  of  Dr.  Jeter.  It  is  one 
of  the  mysteries  which  only  Heaven  can  explain, 
how  good  men  can  sometimes  do  such  cross  and  ugly 
things.  Dr.  Jeter  outlived  this  brother,  and  it  has 
been  said,  by  good  critics,  that  the  finest  article  that 
ever  emanated  from  his  pen,  was  his  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  that  man.  That  was  magnanimity.  He 
could  not  only  forgive  an  injury,  but  he  could  heartily 
honor  and  bless  those  who  had  been  unkind  to  him. 
This  he  did  in  no  swelling  and  vain-glorious  way, 
as  if  he  were  proud  to  do  a  pretty  deed.  He  did  it, 
because  it  was  in  him  to  do  it. 

He  knew  how  to  respect  men  who  had  strong 
blemishes  of  character.  In  the  past  generation,  there 
was  a  minister  of  real  worth,  who  was  yet  noted  for 
his  pomposity  and  egotism.  He  was  the  subject  of 
much  severe  criticism.  Dr.  Jeter  was  very  fond  of 
him,  and  once,  when  asked  his  opinion  of  him,  said : 
"  I  greatly  admire  him,  and  I  admire  his  egotism, 
because  it  is  so  thoroughly  amiable.  He  thinks  well 
of  himself;  but  then  he  thinks  well  of  the  rest  of  us 
also." 

Sir  Humphrey  Davy  was  once  complimented  on 
his  great  discoveries.  He  replied  :  "  My  greatest  dis- 
covery is  Faraday."  While  our  State  mission  work 
was  yet  in  chaos,  the  board  met  one  day  to  select  a 
secretary.  The  members  were  bewildered,  and  knew 
not  where  to  look.  Dr.  Jeter  turned  to  a  modest, 
black-eyed  youth  and  said:  "Eureka!    I  have  found 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  451 

him.  I  have  found  the  man.  Here  he  is.  Put  him 
into  this  office,  and  he  will  give  his  life  to  it."  They 
put  him  in,  and  the  result  is  known.  That  man 
was  Henry  K.  Ellyson. 

A  winsome  trait  in  Dr.  Jeter  was  his  cordial 
esteem  for  brethren  whose  characters  were  marred 
by  palpable  and  grievous  blemishes.  One  did  not 
have  to  be  very  good,  in  order  to  win  his  love.  His 
eye  could  detect  a  single  virtue  in  a  mass  of  rubbish. 
He  was  slow  to  lose  confidence  in  persons,  or  even  to 
become  impatient  with  them.  I  sometimes  thought 
that  his  cordial  respect  for  odd  and  peculiar  men 
was  the  brightest  charm  of  his  character.  Take,  for 
example,  this  picture  of  Epa  Norris,  one  of  his 
Northern  Neck  deacons : 

When  I  went  to  reside  in  the  Northern  Neck,  Deacon  Norris 
received  me  very  cordially.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before  an 
event  occurred  by  which  he  was  temporarily  alienated  from  me.  At 
that  time  the  use  of  collars,  separate  from  shirts,  was  just  coming 
into  fashion.  By  chance  I  borrowed  a  collar,  and,  while  using  it, 
spent  a  night  at  the  plain  and  hospitable  home  of  the  deacon.  On 
rising  in  the  morning  I  remarked  that  I  had  never  worn  a  collar 
before — that  I  was  pleased  with  it — and  that  I  must  get  me  a 
supply  of  collars.  He  seemed  to  be  awakened  into  solemn  medi- 
tation. After  some  delay,  he  said :  "  I  am  not  sure  that  it  is  right 
to  wear  collars."  Without  the  slightest  doubt  of  my  ability  to 
convince  him  that  there  was  nothing  wrong  in  the  practice,  I 
commenced  an  argument  in  its  favor.  The  more  I  argued  on  the 
subject,  the  more  deeply  he  seemed  to  be  convinced  that  it  was 
sinful.  "  It  is,"  he  said,  "  hypocrisy — a  make-believe — you  pre- 
tend to  have  on  a  clean  shirt,  and  you  haven't."  As  a  crowning 
argument,  he  said  that  Lunsford  and  Straughan  never  wore  col- 
lars ;  and  he  was  sure,  if  they  were  living,  they  would  not  do  it. 
Having  failed  in  argument,  I  resolved  to  see  what  I  could  do  in 


452  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

the  way  of  conciliation.  I  said  to  him,  "  Brother  Norris,  if  my 
wearing  collars  will  hurt  your  feelings,  I  will  not  wear  them." 
"  You  think  it  right  to  wear  them,"  said  the  old  man,  "  and  that 
is  as  bad  as  if  you  were  to  do  it."  I  could  avoid  the  practice, 
but  could  not  change  my  opinion  about  it;  and  we  parted,  leav- 
ing the  question  undecided. 

I  was  willing  to  let  it  drop ;  but  Deacon  Norris  was  not  a  man 
to  yield  his  convictions.  At  every  opportunity  the  subject  was 
rediscussed,  and  the  same  arguments  were  repeated.  It  chanced 
Deacon  Gaskins  and  myself  spent  a  night  with  Brother  Norris. 
Gaskins  had  a  more  discriminating  and  logical  mind  than  Norris. 
The  grave  question  about  the  lawfulness  of  wearing  collars  came 
up  for  discussion.  I  was  glad  to  commit  it  to  the  hands  of  the 
two  deacons.  Deacon  Norris  repeated  his  stereotyped  argu- 
ment :  "  It  is  hypocrisy ;  you  pretend  to  have  on  a  clean  shirt, 
and  haven't."  Deacon  Gaskins  replied:  " Brother  Norris,  when 
you  have  been  from  home  and  your  cravat  has  become  soiled  on 
the  outside,  do  you  never  turn  it  and  put  the  clean  side  out  ?  " 
It  was  a  nail  driven  in  a  sure  place.  Deacon  Norris  was  accus- 
tomed, as  was  the  fashion  of  the  day,  to  wear  a  cravat  of  spotless 
white,  carefully  tied  at  the  back  of  his  neck.  He  was  too  honest 
to  deny  that  he  sometimes  turned  his  cravat  for  the  purpose  of 
concealing  its  dirt,  and  of  too  much  penetration  not  to  perceive 
that  the  act  involved  the  very  principle  which  he  was  so  fiercely 
condemning.  He  was  for  a  while  silent,  evidently  endeavoring 
to  see  if  there  were  any  escape  from  the  consequence  that  fol- 
lowed the  confession  that  he  was  bound  to  make.  He  could  see 
no  door  of  deliverance.  With  a  sorrowful  countenance  and 
signs  of  deep  penitence,  he  said  :  "  Yes,  Brother  Gaskins,  I  have ; 
but  if  the  Lord  will  forgive  me,  I  will  never  do  it  again." 
Whether  the  old  man  needed  forgiveness  for  the  supposed  fault 
I  cannot  say ;  but  it  is  quite  certain  that,  whether  forgiven  or 
not,  he  never  again  turned  his  cravat  to  conceal  its  soiled  ex- 
terior. 

For  months  the  controversy  was  continued  with  undiminished 
earnestness ;  but  without  any  increase  of  light.  At  length,  it  was 
closed.  The  deacon  and  I  were  together  at  Mrs.  Downing's.  She 
was  an  intelligent,  pious  old  Baptist,  of  the  Lunsford  school ;  he 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  453 

proposed  that  the  question  should  be  decided  by  her,  and  I 
gladly  assented  to  the  proposition.  Brother  Norris,  to  be  sure  of 
a  favorable  decision,  undertook  to  state  the  case.  Mrs.  Downing 
stopped  him  in  the  midst  of  his  discourse  with  the  question : "  Doesn't 
Brother  Jeter  wear  collars  ? "  On  learning  that  he  did  not,  she 
said  :  "  Well,  he  must  have  some.  I  don't  know  how  he  can  get 
along  without  them."  "  See,  here,  child,"  said  the  deacon,  and 
endeavored  to  renew  his  argument ;  but  the  good  sister  would 
not  hear  it.  He  was  silenced  and  gave  up  the  controversy ;  but 
was  neither  convinced  nor  satisfied.  Some  time  afterwards  he  asked 
for  a  letter  of  dismission  from  the  Morattico  Church,  of  which  I 
was  pastor,  and  of  which  he  had  been  an  honored  deacon  for 
thirty  years,  to  join  a  church  nearer  to  him,  in  an  adjoining 
county.  Convenience  was  the  plea  for  the  change ;  but  the 
brethren  all  thought  that  the  trouble  about  the  collar  was  at  the 
bottom  of  it. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  old  brother  learned  that  wearing  a 
collar  was  not  the  worst  evil  that  could  afflict  a  church.  He  soon 
got  into  great  difficulties  with  his  new  relation — difficulties  in 
nowise  affecting  his  Christian  character,  but  greatly  disturbing 
the  repose  of  his  old  age.  Years  before  I  left  the  Neck  he  had 
entirely  forgiven,  or,  at  least,  overlooked,  my  sin  of  wearing  a 
collar,  and  was  in  cordial  friendship  with  me. 

It  is,  perhaps,  more  than  thirty  years  since  Deacon  Norris 
went  to  his  long  home.  He  was  a  good  man,  but  had  his  im- 
perfections— peculiarities,  perhaps,  they  should  be  called.  His 
faults,' if  faults  they  were,  were  virtues  over-rigid  hardened  into 
wrong.  His  conscientiousness  was  noble  ;  but  he  erred  in  wish- 
ing to  make  his  conscience  the  rule  for  other  people's  conduct. 
His  deep  convictions  were  commendable ;  but  they  betrayed  him 
into  intolerant  dogmatism.  He  could  never  have  been  a  great 
man ;  but,  with  better  training  and  under  other  circumstances, 
he  would  have  been  a  noble  specimen  of  Christian  piety,  and 
might  have  been  a  martyr  in  the  cause  of  Christ.  With  all  his 
oddities,  I  loved  and  venerated  him,  and  cherish  unfeigned  re- 
spect for  his  memory. 

Dr.  Jeter  gave  liberally  of  his  time,  counsel  and 


454  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

money  in  helping  others.  He  took  marked  interest 
in  the  education  of  sp rightly  boys  and  girls,  and,  in 
his  own  quiet  way,  assisted  those  who  were  in 
necessitous  circumstances.  Many  of  his  benefactions 
of  this  kind  were  not  known,  beyond  the  immediate 
families  upon  whom  they  were  bestowed.  An  enter- 
prise might  be  unpopular,  but  if  he  believed  that  it 
was  really  meritorious,  he  would  identify  himself  with 
it,  and  do  his  utmost  to  ensure  its  success.  It  would 
be  easy  to  enlarge  this  sketch  by  introducing  those 
who  stand  ready  to  testify  to  his  cordial  sympathy 
and  helpfulness  in  their  struggles.  I  must  at  least 
insert  this  grateful  and  beautiful  letter  from  Dr.  C. 
H.  Corey,  President  of  the  Richmond  Institute,  for 
the  training  of  colored  ministers. 

Kichmond  Theological  Seminary, 
Richmond,  Va.,  March  20th,  1887. 
My  Dear  Dr.  Hatcher, 

I  learn  with  sincere  pleasure  that  you  are  about  to  publish 
memorials  of  the  late  Dr.  Jeter.  I  look  forward  to  its  perusal 
with  peculiar  interest.  Dr.  Jeter  was  a  man  for  whom  I  had  a 
most  profound  regard  and  a  sincere  affection.  About  nineteen 
years  ago  I  came  to  Richmond  an  entire  stranger.  I  was  to 
succeed  Rev.  Nathaniel  Colver,  D.D.,  and  Rev.  Robert  Ryland, 
D.D.,  in  their  work  of  training  colored  ministers.  Our  school- 
room was  a  small  brick  building,  which  stood  in  "  the  bottom," 
near  Shockoe  Creek,  below  Broad  Street,  and  was  a  part  of  the 
establishment  known  as  "  Lumpkin's  Jail."  My  own  home  was 
on  the  premises,  in  the  house  occupied  by  the  former  proprietor 
of  the  place,  Mr.  Lumpkin.  Dr.  Jeter  was  among  the  first  to 
find  his  way  to  my  unpretending  home,  in  this  most  uninviting 
place,  and  to  extend  to  me  his  sympathies,  and  to  assure  me  of 
his  hearty  co-operation  in  my  work.  He  and  his  "  Junior,"  Rev. 
A.  E.  Dickinson,  D.D.,  not  only  did  what  they  could  to  make  me 
feel  at  home,  but  tendered  to  me  the  columns  of  the  Religious 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  455 

Herald,  which  they  assured  me  would  always  be  at  my  disposal 
in  the  interests  of  my  work.  Then  and  ever  afterwards  Dr. 
Jeter  was  a  frequent  and  welcome  visitor  to  our  institution.  The 
young  men  always  hailed  with  delight  his  coming  and  listened  to 
his  words  of  instruction  and  encouragement  with  unfeigned 
pleasure.  His  attitude  towards  our  work,  both  in  public  and 
private,  largely  contributed  to  secure  at  an  early  day  the  confi- 
dence and  co-operation  of  the  denomination  in  Virginia.  His 
words  of  kind  approval  and  appreciation  to  me  personally  were 
not  only  an  encouragement,  but  an  inspiration,  as  I  felt  myself 
honored  in  having  so  great  and  good  a  man  for  my  personal 
friend. 

So  deeply  had  Dr.  Jeter  impressed  his  personality  upon  me, 
that  whenever  I  saw  his  commanding  form,  wThether  he  walked 
the  streets  or  rode  along  on  his  old  white  horse,  a  benediction  in- 
voluntarily escaped  my  lips.  It  was  my  privilege  to  join  the 
company  of  mourners  that  followed  him  to  his  resting-place,  on 
the  banks  of  the  James.  And  now,  among  the  beautiful  places 
where  slumber  the  great  and  good  in  that  "  city  of  the  silent," 
there  is  no  spot  near  which  I  more  reverently  linger,  than  that 
where  rest  the  mortal  remains  of  Jeremiah  Bell  Jeter. 

Chas.  H.  Corey. 

Ministers  sometimes  complained  that  Dr.  Jeter 
was  cold  and  inaccessible.  I  think  that  at  times  he 
was  signally  lacking  in  that  ease  and  warmth  of 
manner  which  always  attracts  those  who  are  shy  of 
distinguished  men.  The  truth  was  that  many 
preachers  were  afraid  of  the  old  Doctor.  They 
shrank  away  from  him,  and  awaited  approaches  on 
his  part.  But  he  was  absorbed  with  other  things. 
He  was  not  thinking  about  them,  and  least  of  all 
was  it,  in  his  heart,  to  slight  them.  One  had  to 
charge  upon  him  and  arouse  him,  in  order  to  win  his 
attention.  Those  who  sought  him  easily  found  him. 
A  few  sore  and  sensitive  men  had  hard  thoughts  of 


456  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

him,  and  never  ceased  to  tell  how  many  times  they 
had  been  introduced  to  him,  and  how  he  always 
failed  to  know  them  the  next  time.  They  told  the 
truth.  He  did  not  know  them,  and  introduction 
meant  little  with  him.  He  recognized  persons,  not 
by  their  forms  or  faces,  but  by  their  personality — 
their  expression,  their  voices,  their  smile  and  their 
laugh.  Deep  in  his  heart,  there  was  an  ardent  love 
for  his  christian  brethren.  His  ear  was  open  to  the 
voice  of  their  sorrow,  and  he  was  always  ready  to 
counsel  or  cheer  them.  In  the  simple  incident  below, 
a  young  preacher  tells  how  Dr.  Jeter  helped  him. 

Dr.  Jeter  was  known  to  be  a  kind,  but  withal  a  close  and 
severe  critic.  Dr.  Wilson  used  to  say  of  him,  "  He  rides  me  like 
an  elephant." 

Shortly  after  I  came  to  Richmond,  a  mere  stripling  and  poorly 
prepared  for  the  work  before  me,  Dr.  Jeter  came  to  hear  me 
preach.  When  I  saw  him,  I  hastened  to  him  and  besought  him 
to  preach  for  me.  But  he  firmly  declined.  He  took  a  seat  on 
the  platform  behind  me,  and  while  I  was  preaching  I  observed 
frequently  a  broad  smile  on  the  faces  of  the  people.  This  was  so 
unusual,  and  so  unexpected  to  me,  that  it  almost  disconcerted  me. 
But  I  learned  afterwards,  that  Dr.  Jeter's  hearty  nods  of  assent  to 
points  in  the  sermon,  and  his  silent,  but  visible,  smiles  of  approba- 
tion had  proved  so  contagious,  that  they  spread  over  the  congrega- 
tion. At  the  close,  he  thanked  me  for  the  sermon,  and  spoke  so 
kindly  and  encouragingly  to  me,  and  the  members  of  the  church 
that  I  have  ever  regarded  that  visit  of  the  dear,  good  man  as  one 
of  the  links  which  strengthened  the  union  between  the  young 
and  weak  beginner  and  his  flock. 

He  never  flattered  men.  Indeed,  some  thought 
that  he  was  unduly  reserved  in  the  matter  of  com- 
mendation.    The  fact  was,  that  he  set  such  a  low 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  457 

estimate  upon  the  praises  of  men,  that  he  failed  to 
remember,  how  grateful  they  were  to  other  people. 
Those  who  got  a  compliment  from  him,  valued  it  as  a 
jewel  of  the  first  order,  and  kept  it,  as  a  precious 
souvenir.  What  he  said  in  the  way  of  compliment, 
was  usually  spontaneous,  the  outburst  of  an  impulse, 
briefly  spoken,  and  soon  forgotten.  Sometimes  he 
dropped  a  commendatory  word,  with  unconscious 
aptness,  and  it  went  like  balm  to  a  bruised  spirit. 

A  certain  Baptist  merchant  of  Richmond,  became 
seriously  embarrassed  in  his  business.  The  report 
went  out  that  he  had  failed,  and  caused  much  pain- 
ful surprise.  A  few  days,  after  the  suspension  of  his 
business,  Dr.  Jeter,  in  passing  down  the  aisle  of  the 
church,  one  Sunday  morning,  met  him.  He  grasped 
him  by  the  hand  with  unwonted  warmth,  and  said, 
"  How  are  you,  brother  ?  I  have  heard  fine  news 
about  you."  Just  about  that  time,  the  sad  brother 
was  feeling  that  all  the  news  concerning  him  was  of 
the  worst  sort.  With  mingled  surprise  and  curiosity, 
he  asked  the  Doctor  what  he  had  heard.  "  Why,  I 
heard  that  you  had  failed  in  business,  and  failed 
honestly.  It  is  nothing  to  lose  your  money,  if  you 
have  been  able  to  retain  your  integrity."  The  kind 
word  went  far  to  reconcile  the  brother  to  his  mis- 
fortunes. He  did  "  fail  honestly,"  and  not  long  after, 
started  again,  and  rose  to  high  prosperity. 

HIS    CANDOR. 

Candor  is  an  ambiguous  term.  Harsh  deeds 
against  propriety,  and  religion,  have  often  been  com- 
mitted  in    the    name    of   candor.       Unfeeling   men 


458  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

trample  upon  the  sensibilities  of  others,  and  then 
seek  to  justify  their  brutality,  by  ascribing  it  to  a 
frank  and  outspoken  spirit.  Unthinking  people,  who 
are  incapable  of  self-containment,  and  who  are  per- 
petually blurting  forth  their  indiscretions,  plead 
candor,  as  an  atonement  for  their  folly.  Real  can- 
dor is  honesty  of  nature — the  capacity  to  estimate 
things  just  as  they  are.  Only  the  truth-loving  man 
can  be  candid.  Dr.  Jeter  was  a  candid  man.  He 
saw  things  as  they  were,  and  valued  them  at  their 
worth. 

He  knew  himself,  and  I  must  be  candid  enough 
to  add,  that  he  thought  highly  of  himself.  This,  the 
word  of  God  gave  him  the  right  to  do.  His  sturdy 
self-respect  was  one  bulwark  of  his  strength.  He 
might  fail  in  his  sermons,  or  his  plans,  and  often  did, 
but  he  did  not  fall  out  with  himself,  on  that  account. 
There  was  in  him  much  that  deserved  respect,  and 
he  knew  it. 

But  he  did  "not  think  more  highly  of  himself" 
than  he  ought  to  have  thought.  His  self-respect 
saved  him  from  vanity.  No  man  of  his  clear  com- 
mon sense  could  have  been  conceited.  That  he  had 
gifts  and  adaptations,  he  could  not  but  know,  and  he 
was  free  from  that  spurious  humility  which  would 
prompt  him  to  deny,  or  disparage  his  powers.  He 
did  not  think  that  he  was  a  great  man.  He  fell  so 
far  short  of  his  aspirations,  that  he  felt  little  of  self- 
exaltation.  As  to  his  spiritual  attainments  he  was 
thoroughly  dissatisfied.  He  once  said  of  Daniel 
Witt :  "  I  never  knew  him  to  do  a  wrong  thing  in 
my  life ;  but  as  for  me,  I  have  been  stumbling  and 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  459 

blundering  all  my  days."     He  did  not  parade  osten- 
tatiously, but  he  confessed,  his  infirmities. 

He  rarely  spoke  of  the  faults  of  others,  without 
coupling  with  the  remark,  a  confession  of  his  own. 
He  was  once  in  company  with  several  men  who  were 
strongly  condemning  the  folly  of  an  absent  brother. 
They  struck  him  hard  blows,  and  showed  no  mercy. 
Dr.  Jeter,  who  knew  that  they  were  right  in  their 
judgment,  said  nothing  until  the  talk  ended,  and 
then  remarked :  "  Human  nature  is  a  great  fool,  of 
which  I  am  one."     The  quaint  speech  did  its  work. 

He  loved  to  be  criticised.  If  men  praised  him,  he 
was  ill  at  ease ;  but  when  they  condemned  him  in  a 
kind  spirit,  and  to  his  face,  he  enjoyed  it.  He  selected 
men  of  critical  tastes,  and  subjected  his  performances 
to  their  faithful  inspection.  Those  who  know  Dr. 
Ryland's  unpitying  methods  as  a  critic,  will  not  doubt 
Dr.  Jeter's  honesty  in  asking  for  correction,  when  it 
is  known  that  among  critics,  Dr.  Ryland  was  his 
favorite.  Sometimes  men  struck  him  malignantly, 
and  while  he  did  not  like  their  motive,  he  sought  to 
use  their  attacks  for  his  own  improvement.  He  be- 
lieved that  an  enemy  had  his  uses. 

The  crowning  proof  of  his  candor  was  seen  in  his 
readiness  to  confess  a  wrong.  He  seemed  to  have 
no  false  pride,  and  found  more  pleasure  in  acknowl- 
edging that  he  was  wrong  than  he  did  in  proving 
that  somebody  else  was  wrong.  Not  that  he  was 
facile  or  vacillating,  or  that  his  convictions  were  not 
sharp,  or  that  he  was  not  ready  to  defend  his  opin- 
ions ;  but  he  had  the  capacity  to  discover  his  own 
errors  and  the  manliness  to  confess  them. 


460  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

In  1858,  a  plea  was  made  in  the  General  Associa- 
tion of  Virginia,  in  favor  of  the  Baptist  church  in  New 
Orleans.  He  arose  and  opposed  it.  He  declared  that 
the  attempt  to  establish  the  Baptist  cause  in  that  city, 
was  an  expensive,  and  profitless  task,  and  ought  to  be 
abandoned.  His  remarks  gave  surprise  and  pain. 
Several  brethren  arose,  and  presented  such  an  array 
of  facts,  against  his  position,  as  were  overpowering. 
He  took  the  floor  again  and  said :  "I  have  spoken 
unadvisedly.  I  did  not  understand  the  situation  in 
New  Orleans,  as  well  as  I  supposed.  I  request  that 
my  utterances  will  be  counted  for  nothing.  I  not 
only  withdraw  them,  but  I  will  cheerfully  contribute 
to  the  cause."  The  devout  candor  of  his  confession, 
not  only  atoned  for  his  mistake,  but  became  a  mag- 
netic plea  for  New  Orleans. 

On  another  occasion,  he  arose  to  answer  a  speech 
made  on  a  certain  question.  He  took  up  two  or 
three  points,  and  demolished  them  to  his  own  satis- 
faction, and  finally  attacked  the  strong  point  of  his 
opponent.  As  he  began  to  pick  it  to  pieces,  he  saw 
it  in  a  new  light — saw  that  it  was  conclusive  against 
him.  He  paused,  in  deep  thought,  for  a  moment,  and 
then,  breaking  into  happy  laughter,  said :  "  I  see 
that  I  am  wrong,  and  my  brother  is  right.  Let  us 
vote  on  his  side." 

At  a  meeting  of  the  Foreign  Mission  Board,  he 
made  a  very  emphatic  statement  with  reference  to 
the  Italian  Mission.  He  fully  believed  in  the  accu- 
racy of  the  statement,  and  maintained  it  with  bold 
and  eloquent  zeal.  It  happened  that  he  had  over- 
looked certain  important  facts,  in  possession  of  the 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  461 

Board,  which  went  far  to  discredit  his  views.  The 
secretary  quietly  handed  him  the  record,  and,  upon 
examining  it,  he  saw  his  error,  and  gracefully  con- 
fessed it. 

In  matters  of  fact,  he  was  liable  to  error.  This 
he  well  knew,  and  it  rendered  him  cautious  in  speak- 
ing. His  half-knowledge  never  made  him  dogmatic  : 
it  only  rendered  him,  modest  and  careful. 

He  studied  principles  rather  than  men,  and  in 
matters  of  doctrine,  he  rarely  went  awry.  If,  how- 
ever, he  misquoted  a  scripture  text,  or  misstated  a 
doctrine  in  ethics,  or  religion,  he  gladly  suffered  cor- 
rection. His  bearing  toward  an  opponent,  was  the 
perfection  of  courtesy.  Difference  in  age,  or  learning 
was  nothing  to  him.  He  was  willing  to  learn  from 
any,  however  humble  or  obscure,  they  might  be. 
Here  is  a  pleasant  little  incident,  furnished  by  Rev. 
J.  B.  Hutson,  which  finely  exemplifies  his  spirit : 

It  so  happened  that  I  got  into  a  private  controversy  with  Dr. 
Jeter,  on  the  question  of  dancing.  He  maintained  that  dancing  is 
not  sinful  per  se,  and  that  it  is  not  a  sufficient  cause  for  church 
discipline,  except  when  carried  to  excess,  or  attended  by  other 
wicked  conduct. 

I  argued  that  the  example  was  bad,  that  it  often  led  to  ruinous 
sins,  that  it  was  a  great  grief  to  many  pious  people,  and  that  it 
laid  a  stumbling-stone  in  the  way  of  the  weak.  All  this  he  ad- 
mitted might  be  true,  but  he  insisted  that  we  are  left  to  liberty 
and  charity  in  regard  to  such  matters,  as  to  whether  we  will  re- 
frain from  lawful  things  for  the  sake  of  others  or  not.  Said  he : 
"  It  is  a  matter  of  love,  and  you  cannot  make  a  law  for  love." 

Sitting  in  his  study  one  day,  the  discussion  was  resumed.  He 
asked  me  seriously  for  my  authority,  in  excluding  a  member  from 
the  church  on  the  charge  of  (persistent)  dancing.  I  referred  him 
to  the  language  of  the  apostle  in  regard  to  eating  meats  offered  to 


462  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

idols.  He  picked  up  his  Testament,  with  which  he  was  so  familiar, 
and,  turning  at  once  to  the  8th  chapter  of  1  Corinthians,  he  be- 
gan to  read,  commenting  with  earnestness  from  verse  to  verse,  in 
favor  of  his  views  upon  the  subject.  By  and  by,  he  came  to  the 
12th  verse  and  read,  "  But  when  ye  sin  so  against  the  brethren, 
and  wound  their  weak  conscience,  ye  sin  against  Christ."  He 
paused  a  moment,  looked  thoughtful,  closed  the  book,  and  said,  in 
his  peculiar  voice,  with  deep  emphasis,  "  The  apostle  seems  to  con- 
demn it."  And  there  the  discussion  ended.  But  I  was  amazed  at 
the  honest  candor  of  the  great  and  noble  man  that  sat  before  me. 

A  gentleman  said  recently  that  he  believed  that  it 
was  impossible  for  Dr.  Jeter  to  see  an  error  in  another 
without  telling  him  of  it,  if  he  had  the  opportunity. 
This  might  strike  a  stranger,  as  a  decidedly  disagree- 
able virtue.  But  not  so.  As  a  critic,  he  was  pecu- 
liarly amiable  and  sympathetic.  He  became  a  critic 
by  having  to  educate  himself.  He  loved  those  who 
helped  him  in  that  long  struggle,  and  his  real  motive 
in  criticising  others,  was  to  help  them.  He  did  his 
work  in  a  genial,  respectful  way. 

I  must  admit  that  his  amiability  was  not  adequate 
to  every  emergency.  Now  and  then,  when  he  fell  afoul 
of  a  pedant  or  a  crank,  the  point  of  his  blade  was 
painfully  sharp.  When  one  had  marked  faults  in  his 
character,  the  Doctor  would  put  in  his  knife  until  it 
went  to  the  root  of  the  matter.  At  times,  he  worked 
in  his  criticisms  indirectly.  One  preacher  was  criti- 
cising another  on  his  sermon  in  a  tart  way.  Among 
other  things,  he  expressed  contemptuous  surprise  at 
the  smallness  of  the  preacher's  crowd.  "  Was  his 
house  crowded  ?  "  Dr.  Jeter  asked.  "  No,"  said  the 
man,  "  it  was  not  one-third  full."  "  Then,"  said  the 
Doctor,  "  why  did  you  speak  of  his  crowd  ?  "    By  this 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  463 

time,  it  dawned  upon  the  brother,  that  he  was  talking 
too  much. 

Perhaps  no  man  ever  fell  under  the  Doctor's  criti- 
cisms so  often  as  this  writer.  He  seemed  to  feel  at 
perfect  liberty  to  pick  me  to  pieces  whenever  we  met. 
I  went  into  his  office,  one  Monday  morning,  when  he 
greeted  me  with  unwonted  cordiality.  He  said  : 
"  Sunday  before  last  you  preached  an  uncommonly 
fine  sermon.  It  was  capital.  I  did  not  think  that 
you  could  preach  so  well."  1  thought  he  was  spread- 
ing the  pleasant  ointment  with  unusual  thickness, 
when  he  added,  "  But  I  think  your  sermon  yesterday 
morning  was  one  of  the  meanest  that  I  ever  heard  any- 
body preach  in  my  lifer  I  mildly  suggested  that  he 
would  please  strike  an  average  in  his  criticisms,  but 
he  insisted  that  when  a  sermon  was  mean,  it  ought  to 
perish  without  mercy. 

At  another  time  he  said  to  me,  "  You  had  a  good 
sermon  last  Sunday,  but  you  spoiled  it  by  the  violence 
of  your  delivery."  He  was  very  anxious  to  correct 
a  peculiarly  grievous  blemish  in  my  manner,  and 
after  whacking  me  about  it,  again  and  again,  he  wrote 
a  critical  article  at  my  expense,  and  published  it  as  an 
anonymous  communication  in  the  Religious  Herald. 

It  seemed  natural  for  him  to  criticise  people — that 
is,  in  their  presence.  If  a  guest  used  a  wrong  word 
at  his  table,  he  would  call  him  to  account. 

HIS   COURAGE. 

By  nature  Dr.  Jeter  was  bold  and  aggressive.  He 
was  fiery  in  his  purposes  and  defiant  of  obstacles. 
But  in  his  matured  christian  life,  he  was  very  gentle. 


464  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

His  fierce,  exacting  spirit  had  found  its  place  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross. 

But  this  does  not  mean  that  he  had  become  tame, 
spiritless  or  yielding.  It  simply  means  that  his 
courage  had  gotten  out  of  his  blood,  into  his  con- 
science. In  committing  sin,  or  in  any  wanton  deed 
he  was  a  coward.  He  was  afraid  to  do  wrong.  The 
very  thought  of  harboring  evil,  or  conniving  at 
wrong,  would  have  convulsed  him  into  terror,  but  he 
was  not  afraid  to  do  right.  In  the  discharge  of  his 
duty,  he  was  intrepid  and  heroic.  In  his  youth,  he 
stood  in  the  forefront  of  the  temperance  movement 
of  Virginia,  and  bore  obloquy  and  injury,  without  dis- 
may, and  when,  in  after-days,  he  saw  violent  men 
making  shipwreck  of  the  temperance  cause,  by  their 
vicious  methods,  he  turned  and  fought  them.  His 
standing  in  the  old  Triennial  Convention,  for  a  half- 
hour,  waiting  to  be  heard,  and  never  yielding  to  the 
vociferous  outcry  against  him,  constituted  a  scene  of 
moral  sublimity.  He  was  then  a  young  and  untried 
man,  but  he  stood  the  ordeal  with  transcendent 
strength  and  composure.  The  battle  which  he  fought 
in  Richmond,  in  favor  of  a  separate  church  for  the 
negroes,  was  one  whose  violence  and  peril  it  is  hard 
now  to  estimate.  But  he  never  quailed  before  the 
popular  scowl. 

But  to  me,  the  most  pleasing  sign  of  his  intrepidity 
was  his  composure  in  defeat.  He  did  not  court  dis- 
aster, but  he  was  not  afraid  of  it.  He  was  often 
frustrated  in  his  plans.  He  was  too  conservative  to 
be  in  harmony  with  the  extreme  men,  and  too  pro- 
gressive to  find  a  following  among  the  old  fogies.  The 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  465 

result  was,  that  he  frequently  operated  without  a 
constituency.  It  was  his  fortune  in  many  cases  to 
stand  alone,  and  he  once  said  to  me,  that  he  supposed 
he  had  been  more  frequently  defeated  in  his  proposi- 
tions, than  any  other  man  in  the  denomination.  He 
lived  a  long  time,  however,  and  saw  many  of  his 
measures  which  were  rejected,  when  first  introduced, 
afterwards  taken  up  and  adopted.  Sometimes  those 
who  helped  to  defeat  him,  resuscitated  his  schemes, 
adopted  them  as  their  own,  and  pushed  them  to  suc- 
cess. I  used  to  enjoy  seeing  him  defeated — it  made 
me  love  him  more  to  see  how  calmly  he  took  it.  It 
was  not  a  case  in  which  the  lion  lay  down  with  the 
lamb ;  it  was  the  lion  becoming  the  lamb. 

I  have  been  free  to  speak  of  Dr.  Jeter's  high  and 
ambitious  spirit.  In  his  youth,  it  was  looked  upon 
by  his  older  and  more  sedate  brethren,  as  the  great- 
est blot  upon  his  ministerial  character.  We  may  well 
believe  that  it  took  a  long  and  prayerful  struggle  to 
subdue  it.  By  the  grace  of  God,  he  won  a  complete 
victory.  The  last  vestige  of  self-seeking  and  pride 
seemed  to  have  been  swept  from  his  heart.  He  be- 
came as  guileless,  unconscious  and  docile  as  a  little 
child.  The  spirit  of  the  lamb  reigned  in  him. 
Earthly  honors  ceased  to  charm  him ;  his  dreams  of 
greatness  faded  away ;  human  praises  lost  their  power 
to  intoxicate  him,  and  for  years  it  could  have  been 
truthfully  said  of  him,  that  though  in  the  world,  he 
was  not  of  it. 

In  his  old  age  he  was  treated  with  the  utmost 
veneration.  The  highest  seat  after  which  he  had 
yearned  in  his  youth,  was  constantly  offered  him, 
30 


466  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

but  he  did  not  desire  it.  He  cared  nothing  for  office, 
and  took  it  for  its  burdens,  and  not  its  distinctions. 

His  lofty  and  serious  bearing  imparted  a  certain 
severity  to  his  manners,  which  some  mistook  for 
haughtiness.  In  speaking  once  of  the  charge  some- 
times made  against  him  by  his  kindred,  that  he  was 
proud,  he  said,  "  They  do  not  know  me.  I  have  not 
forgotten  the  rock  out  of  which  I  was  hewn.  I  have 
a  thousand  things  to  make  me  grateful,  but  not  one 
to  make  me  proud." 

Before  the  Lord,  he  was  indeed  lowly  in  spirit. 
There  was  not  one  touch  of  Phariseeism  in  him.  He 
not  only  believed  that  his  salvation  was  the  gift  of 
divine  grace,  but  in  every  prayer,  he  renewed  the 
confession  of  his  sins  and  demerit,  and  threw  himself 
helplessly  upon  the  mercy  of  Christ. 

Of  his  abilities  as  a  preacher  he  had  the  lowest 
opinion.  He  rarely  spoke  of  his  sermons  after 
preaching,  except  in  reply  to  the  remarks  of  others, 
and  then  always  with  the  utmost  modesty.  How  he 
felt  about  his  preaching  comes  out  in  this  incident 
from  Dr.  John  A.  Broaddus : 

It  was  probably  in  1857  that  Dr.  Jeter  preached,  during  a 
week  of  protracted  meeting,  in  Charlottesville.  I  have  often  said, 
and  still  see  no  reason  to  change  the  opinion,  that  it  was  the  best 
series  of  protracted  meeting  sermons  I  ever  heard.  There  was  no 
display  of  specific  adaptation  to  the  occasion,  but  the  real  adapta- 
tion was  most  admirable.  Every  sermon  made  the  pastor  glad 
that  precisely  this  and  no  other  had  on  that  evening  been  given ; 
and  the  rapport,  the  sympathy,  between  preacher  and  hearers 
grew  steadily  day  by  day.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  he  made 
a  remark  which  was  published  without  his  name  in  a  treatise  on 
Homiletics.     He  was  reclining  one  afternoon,  with  a  look  of  that 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  467 

weariness  which  is  apt  to  come  by  reaction  during  a  series  of 
special  efforts ;  and  at  length  he  said,  "  Well,  I  must  get  ready- 
to  preach.  But  I  can't  preach.  I  never  did  preach."  And  then, 
with  a  look  curiously  blended  of  eager  longing  and  sadness,  he 
said,  as  he  sprang  up  on  the  couch,  "  Oh !  I  never  heard  anybody 
preach."  What  earnest  minister  has  not  again  and  again  felt  that 
the  gospel  is  higher  than  all  human  reach,  even  as  the  heavens 
are  higher  than  the  earth? 

HIS   GREAT-HEARTEDNESS. 

During  the  last  five  years  of  Dr.  Jeter's  life  I  was 
his  pastor,  and  I  do  not  know  how  I  can  better  set 
forth  his  Christian  spirit  than  by  mentioning  a  few 
facts  which  I  observed  during  that  period. 

Dr.  Jeter  was,  beyond  all  comparison,  the  most 
devout,  reverential  and  responsive  worshipper  that  I 
have  ever  known.  He  had  all  the  traits  which  fit 
one  for  that  exalted  service.  He  loved  the  courts  of 
Zion.  He  rarely  failed  to  be  present  at  both  services 
on  Sunday,  and  at  the  prayer-meeting  on  Wednesday 
night,  unless  on  duty  elsewhere.  Neither  bad 
weather,  nor  company  kept  him  away.  If  absent  on 
any  account,  he  was  careful  to  explain  or  apologize 
when  he  next  met  me.  His  pew  was  just  in  front  of 
the  pulpit,  and  he  made  it  a  point  to  be  in  his  place 
when  the  worship  began,  often  coming  in  just  at  the 
moment. 

He  entered  into  the  exercises  with  a  wakeful,  unc- 
tuous interest.  He  sang  the  hymns — every  one  of 
them — from  the  first  line  to  the  last,  if  he  knew  the 
tune ;  and  if  he  did  not,  he  kept  his  eye  on  the 
words,  as  if  trying  at  least  to  sing  with  the  spirit. 
He  heard  the  Scriptures  read  with  a  tender,  solemn 


468  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

awe,  as  if  listening  to  the  voice  of  God.  He  was  a 
magnificent  hearer — open-eyed,  upright  and  eager. 
He  rarely  appeared  drowsy.  If  the  preacher  com- 
mitted errors  in  interpretation,  doctrinal  statement, 
or  even  in  emphasis,  or  grammar,  he  might  expect 
to  hear  from  the  Doctor  later  on  that  subject,  and 
yet,  his  mien  was  so  benignant  and  friendly,  that  his 
presence  was  always  refreshing.  His  smile,  his  glis- 
tening eye,  his  unconscious  bows,  his  falling  tears  and 
beating  breast  were  signals  of  cheer  and  support.  It 
was  positively  awful  to  mark  the  depth  and  ardor  of 
his  worship.  One  could  not  look  at  him  without  feel- 
ing that  his  worship  was  an  earnest  and  living  thing. 

At  the  Lord's  Supper  he  was  always  peculiarly 
solemn,  and  often  in  tears.  At  times  he  would  break 
down  completely  and  sob  aloud.  Whenever  we  sang 
"  There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood,"  it  seemed  to 
melt  him  completely.  The  people  often  cried  in 
sympathy  with  him.  His  prayers  at  the  table  were 
tender  and  grateful. 

At  the  prayer-meeting,  he  had  a  seat  to  the  right 
of  the  pulpit.  Now  and  then,  he  came,  spent  the 
hour  in  worship  and  then,  left  without  a  word.  He 
was  not  asked  to  speak,  but  he  knew  that  he  was 
always  heard  with  pleasure,  and  if  the  spirit  moved 
him,  as  was  often  the  case  when  the  pastor  was  dull, 
he  would  speak.  His  talks  were  occasional  and  al- 
ways short.  He  never  rambled.  He  rose  to  say 
something,  and  when  he  said  it,  he  quit.  I  think 
that  the  most  luminous  and  eloquent  strains  that 
ever  fell  from  his  lips  were  in  his  off-hand  prayer- 
meeting  talks. 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  469 

"One  night  the  pastor  made  an  address  on  "  Providence  in  the 
Christian's  Life."  At  its  close  a  hymn  was  sung,  and  then  Dr. 
Jeter  came  out,  and  asked  that  he  might  bear  his  testimony  to 
God's  protecting  care  over  him.  He  related  an  experience  in 
which  he  had  been  brought  very  low.  An  enemy,  gratuitous  in 
his  malice  and  crafty  in  his  methods,  had  struck  him  a  blow 
which  put  his  name  and  usefulness  in  great  peril.  He  had  no 
means  of  defence,  and  was  compelled  to  take  his  trouble  to  the 
Lord,  who,  by  an  extraordinary  providence,  delivered  him  from 
the  power  of  his  enemy.  The  story  was  well  told,  and  when  it 
ended,  the  power  of  God  was  in  the  place." 

At  the  annual  meeting  of  his  church,  reports  were 
always  presented  from  the  officers  and  committees  as 
to  the  year's  work.  Many  shunned  the  meeting  be- 
cause of  its  statistical  heaviness,  but  he  went  and 
watched  eagerly  every  item  in  the  reports.  Good 
reports  found  approval  in  his  silent  smiles  and  nods ; 
but  if  any  chanced  to  be  lame  and  poor,  you  might 
look  out  for  Dr.  Jeter.  He  would  hit  upon  some 
item,  worthy  of  praise,  and  so  shield  the  recreant 
committee,  from  undue  censure,  as  to  put  everybody 
in  a  good  humor.  The  church  once  adopted  a  meas- 
ure which  he  did  not  favor,  which  prompted  him  to 
say  :  "  I  like  this  measure  and  will  support  it — 
not  that  I  really  do  like  it,  but  I  see  that  you 
like  it  and  that  makes  me  like  it."  A  simple  thing 
for  an  old  man  to  say,  and  yet  there  was  enough  old- 
time  religion  in  it,  to  raise  the  spiritual  temperature 
of  the  whole  church.  His  nature  was  full  of  light, 
and  lighted  others  as  well  as  himself. 

During  his  life,  I  felt  no  need  of  outside  help,  in 
protracted  meetings.  Not  that  it  was  understood 
that  he  was  to  help,  and  not  that  he  ever  dreamed 


470  LTFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

that  he  did  give  any  aid  worthy  of  mention.  What 
he  did  was  spontaneous,  and  was  always  apt,  timely 
and  effective.  In  instructing  inquirers  he  was  un- 
excelled. It  was  affecting  to  see  him,  over  seventy- 
five  years  old,  on  his  knees,  beside  a  weeping  sinner, 
trying  humbly  to  point  him  to  the  cross. 

At  the  beginning  of  one  of  the  protracted  meetings  at  Grace 
Street,  he  suggested  that  each  member  would  select  an  individual, 
as  an  object  of  prayer,  saying  that  he  would  do  the  same  thing. 
As  the  meeting  advanced,  he  referred  to  the  matter  several  times, 
urging  the  brethren  not  to  grow  weary  in  their  prayers,  and  say- 
ing that  God  had  not  yet  heard  him,  but  that  he  felt  sure  that  he 
would.  One  night  there  was  a  great  crowd  present,  and  a  deep 
interest  prevailed.  Just  before  preaching,  the  pastor  said  that  if 
any  persons  had  received  Christ  since  the  night  before,  he  would 
be  glad  if  they  would  come  forward  and  confess  their  faith. 
Several  came,  among  them  a  young  man,  well  known,  upright  and 
respected,  but  to  that  time,  utterly  inaccessible  on  the  subject  of 
religion.  He  had  never  indicated  the  least  desire  to  be  a  chris- 
tian, and,  by  a  sort  of  repulsive  dumbness,  had  balked  every  at- 
tempt to  reach  him.  As  he  moved  up  the  aisle,  the  light  of  a 
happy  surprise  broke  over  the  face  of  the  congregation.  Dr. 
Jeter  was  in  his  favorite  chair,  near  the  pulpit,  and  as  the  young 
men  approached  the  pastor,  he  sprang  up  and  seizing  his  hand 
said,  so  as  to  be  heard  all  over  the  house :  "  Why,  George,  is  this 
you  ?  I  knew  you  would  come.  Here  he  is,  brethren ;  here  is 
the  man  I  have  been  praying  for.  God  has  heard  me."  Then, 
with  a  radiant  and  tearful  face,  he  testified  to  the  faithfulness  of 
God  in  hearing  the  prayers  of  his  people. 

I  beg  to  add  here  an  account  of  the  last  prayer- 
meeting  Dr.  Jeter  ever  attended  in  the  Grace  Street 
Church  : 

In  December,  1879,  Dr.  Jeter  requested  that  the  church  would 
hold  a  "  Promise  Meeting,"  and  that  each  one  would  come  pre- 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  471 

pared  to  name  some  Scripture  promise  which  had  been  fulfilled 
in  his  own  case.  The  suggestion  was  new  and  drew  together  a 
large  company.  After  the  exercises  were  opened,  Dr.  Jeter  arose 
and  said :  "  It  is  always  painful  to  speak  in  seeming  compliment 
of  myself,  but  while  my  remarks  will  be  personal,  I  can  declare 
that  they  are  not  prompted  by  egotism  or  vanity.  I  began  life 
poor  and  friendless,  but  I  soon  learned  to  trust  the  promises  of 
God.  I  noticed  many  scriptures  in  which  the  Lord  promised  to 
crown  with  favor  those  who  gave  freely  of  their  substance  to  him. 
I  took  him  at  his  word  and  have  always  found  my  highest  pleas- 
ure in  giving  my  heart,  my  time  and  my  money  to  him.  I  have 
never  tried  to  make  money  and  never  craved  riches,  but  now,  an 
old  man,  and  near  my  end,  I  find  my  hands  are  full.  I  am  not 
rich,  but  I  have  enough  and  to  spare."  He  then  repeated  the 
various  passages  in  which  it  is  promised  that  those  who  give  shall 
be  blessed  with  earthly  goods,  and  witnessed  that  these  earthly 
promises  had  been  fulfilled  to  him. 

The  scene  was  impressive,  and  had  a  curious  and  instructive 
sequel.  A  widow  lady  having  heard  the  announcement  of  this 
promise  meeting,  felt  that  she  must  go.  She  was  then  in  strait- 
ened circumstances  and  struggling  hard  to  live.  She  hoped  to 
catch  some  promise  that  would  support  her  in  the  midst  of  her 
anxiety.  She  found  it  hard  to  get  to  the  meeting;  obstacles 
sprang  up  before  her,  but  she  had  a  pungent  conviction  that  she 
must  hear  Dr.  Jeter  that  night.  She  went  and  his  words  broke 
upon  her  like  a  revelation.  She  resolved  that  she  would  trust 
God  and  give  a  large  part  of  her  earnings  to  him.  Seven  years 
have  passed  and  God  has  lifted  her  up  and  crowned  her  with 
plenty. 

That  meeting  had  another  thrilling  episode.  Among  those  who 
came  to  bear  his  testimony  to  the  faithfulness  of  God  was  Dr.  H. 
W.  Davis,  an  honored  physician  of  Richmond,  and  now  a  beloved 
deacon  of  the  Grace  Street  Church.  As  his  statement  was  writ- 
ten, its  substance  is  given  here: 

"As  one  who  feels  that  I  am  the  least  of  Christ's  followers,  and 
yet  rejoicing  that  by  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am,  I  wish  to 
relate  an  incident  in  my  humble  life.  Almost  twenty-two  years 
ago  I  professed  conversion  while  a  student  at  Richmond  College, 


472  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

and  was  baptized  by  Dr.  Jeter  and  became  a  member  of  this 
church.  Five  years  after  that  time  grave  doubts  and  fears  gath- 
ered upon  me,  and  an  almost  irresistible  disposition  to  neglect  my 
christian  duties  took  possession  of  me  and  prompted  me  to  with- 
draw from  the  church.  This  act  ever  afterwards  gave  me  the 
deepest  sorrow. 

You  will  ask,  brethren,  if  for  seventeen  years  I  was  prayerless 
and  without  hope  ?  No  ;  scarcely  a  day  passed  during  that  long 
period  in  which  I  did  not  lift  my  feeble  prayer  to  God,  that  he 
would  not  take  from  my  heart  the  assurance  of  my  acceptance 
with  him  through  Christ  my  Saviour.  This  I  sought  in  the  hope 
that  I  might  feel  justified  in  returning  to  the  fellowship  of  the 
church.  It  is  one  of  the  solemn  facts  of  my  experience  that, 
during  all  of  that  time,  there  blended  with  my  petition  the  special 
prayer  that  I  might  come  back  to  the  Church  during  the  life-time 
of  the  man  who  baptized  me. 

I  cannot  express  the  strange  anxiety  which  I  felt  about  this 
matter.  While  I  realized  the  necessity  of  my  re-union  with  the 
church  in  order  to  my  christian  efficiency,  my  doubts  appalled 
me  and  held  me  back.  I  could  not  rid  myself  of  the  idea  that  if 
Dr.  Jeter  died  before  my  faith  was  restored,  my  skepticism,  al- 
ready so  trying,  would  end  in  a  complete  distrust  of  God's  mercy. 
This  led  me  in  later  years  to  pray  that  the  God  of  salvation  and 
mercy  would  spare  me  the  bitter  trial  of  seeing  Dr.  Jeter  die  be- 
fore I  returned  to  the  church. 

It  has  now  been  nearly  a  year  since  my  righteous  and  patient 
Father  brought  me  low  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  answered  the 
prayer  which  for  seventeen  years  I  had  made.  I  was  restored  to 
the  Church,  as  you  know,  and  that  while  Dr.  Jeter  yet  lives." 

While  reading  this  paper  Dr.  Davis  was  standing  within  a  foot 
or  two  of  Dr.  Jeter.  When  he  finished  the  old  Doctor  arose,  took 
him  by  the  hand,  tenderly  congratulated  him  and  wished  for  him 
a  long  life.  It  adds  much  to  this  pathetic  incident  to  say  that 
this  was  the  first  time  that  Dr.  Davis  ever  revealed  it,  and  it  was 
also  the  last  time  that  Dr.  Jeter  was  ever  in  the  prayer-meeting. 

Dr.  Jeter  was  a  great  giver.  He  gave  to  almost 
every  worthy  object  that  appealed  to  him,  and  gave 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  473 

in  large  sums.  He  told  a  laughable  story  of  a  man 
who  was  an  agent  for  the  endowment  of  a  new  col- 
lege. He  was  trying  to  raise  ten  thousand  dollars, 
and  wished  the  Doctor  to  give  him  a  start.  He 
plead  his  cause  with  protracted  earnestness.  Dr. 
Jeter,  feeling  uncommonly  poor  at  the  time,  was 
pondering  the  question  as  to  whether  he  would  give 
him  twenty-five  or  fifty  dollars.  He  finally  asked  the 
brother  how  much  he  expected  of  him,  when  he 
said  "  Fifty  cents."  He  said  he  felt  like  a  millionaire, 
and  gave  him  several  times  as  much  as  he  asked. 

His  friends  often  condemned  him  for  his  reckless 
prodigality  in  giving,  but  he  was  constantly  lament- 
ing that  he  could  give  no  more.  He  once  expressed 
the  wish  that  he  had  a  house  full  of  money,  so  that 
he  could  help  every  deserving  cause.  His  maxim 
was,  that  he  could  not  afford  not  to  give.  He  could 
not  sacrifice  the  luxury  of  giving  for  the  mean 
pleasure  of  having.  He  said  that  his  religion  didn't 
work  right  when  he  stopped  giving. 

He  would  give  in  any  way — publicly  or  privately, 
systematically  or  impulsively.  One  morning,  at  the 
close  of  an  appeal  in  behalf  of  ministerial  education, 
he  got  up  and  said  :  "  I  came  here  this  morning  in- 
tending to  give  twenty-five  dollars  to  this  object,  but 
my  heart  has  been  enlarged  by  the  sermon,  and  I 
will  give  fifty  dollars."  That  helped  the  collection 
wonderfully. 

The  last  time  that  he  ever  attended  a  business  meet- 
ing of  his  church,  was  for  the  purpose  of  advocating  the 
repeal  of  a  law  which  forbade  extra  collections,  except 
by  the  formal  consent  of  the  church.     He  said  the 


474  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

rule  savored  of  narrowness,  and  that  a  proper  appeal 
for  money  would  hurt  nobody.  Giving  was  volun- 
tary, and  a  collection  compelled  no  one  to  give,  and 
if  any  desired  to  give,  they  ought  not  to  be  denied 
the  privilege. 

He  never  knew  how  to  take  collections,  but  he 
often  helped  them  greatly  by  the  promptness  and 
cordiality  of  his  contributions. 

The  last  time  that  he  ever  attended  the  Pastors' 
Conference  of  Richmond  was  for  the  purpose  of  ad- 
vocating the  establishment  of  a  Baptist  Home  for 
Aged  Women.  That  enterprise  was  enshrined  in  his 
heart.  He  talked  about  it  for  years,  and  while  he 
never  lived  to  realize  his  wish,  it  is  pleasant  to  say 
that  such  an  institution  now  exists  in  Richmond — a 
monument  to  his  kindly  and  philanthropic  spirit. 

He  was  singularly  responsive  to  appeals  for  help. 
Indeed,  if  money  was  wanted  for  anything  and  Dr. 
Jeter  was  around,  you  might  safely  count  on  at  least 
one  contribution.  He  never  knew,  how  not  to  give. 
The  gate  to  his  treasury  was  off  the  hinges.  Rev. 
George  F.  Williams,  now  of  South  Carolina,  states, 
that  while  he  was  a  pastor  in  Richmond,  he  once 
made  a  statement,  through  the  city  papers,  that  he 
had  found  a  crippled  Confederate  soldier  who  was 
sick  and  destitute.  He  asked  that,  at  a  certain  hour, 
persons  willing  to  relieve  the  man  would  bring  their 
gifts  to  the  Venable  Street  Church.  The  appoint- 
ment fell  upon  a  raw,  gusty  afternoon,  and  though 
the  church  was  located  far  away  from  Dr.  Jeter's 
home,  he  took  his  gift  in  hand,  and  carried  it  to  the 
place. 


CHRIST  IN  HIM.  475 

His  generous  deeds  were  sometimes  clothed  in 
tender  and  beautiful  sentiment.  It  was  one  of  his 
customs,  for  many  years,  on  Christmas  morning  to 
fill  a  basket  with  confections,  fruits  and  pretty  books 
and  swinging  it  on  his  own  strong  arm,  trudge  around 
to  the  homes  of  the  poor,  and  scatter  his  gifts  among 
the  children.  Dr.  A..  B.  Brown  relates  that  he  was 
once  in  Richmond,  on  the  day  for  decorating  the  sol- 
diers' graves.  Walking  up  Grace  Street,  he  found 
Dr.  Jeter's  carriage,  filled  with  flowers,  standing  at 
his  door,  and  that,  too,  after  the  time  set  for  the  deco- 
ration. He  rang  the  bell,  and  asked  the  old  gentle- 
man, if  he  was  not  going  out  to  the  cemetery.  He 
smiled,  almost  blushingly,  and  said  it  was  too  soon  for 
him  to  go.  Dr.  Brown  reminded  him  that  he  was 
already  belated.  Thereupon  Dr.  Jeter  said  :  "  I 
never  go  until  the  others  leave,  and  I  reserve  my 
flowers  for  such  graves  as  chance  to  be  overlooked." 
It  is  not  easy  to  tell  why  that  simple  act  was  done, 
and  yet,  who  does  not  feel  that  the  very  glory  of  Dr. 
Jeter's  character  shone  out  in  it  ? 

Dr.  Jeter  never  grew  old  in  spirit.  He  was  free 
from  that  sensitive  folly  which  leads  some  to  conceal 
their  age,  or  to  be  wounded,  when  reminded  of  it. 
He  was  infinitely  above  such  nonsense.  He  had  a 
confessed  horror  of  losing  sympathy  with  the  times, 
or,  of  dwindling  into  imbecility.  He  prayed  that  he 
might  not  outlive  his  usefulness.  The  outward  signs 
of  age  were  manifest  enough,  but  a  perpetual  freshness 
and  vivacity  marked  his  spirit.  He  was  radiant,  hope- 
ful, elastic  and  exuberant  in  his  joy  fulness,  up  to  the 
moment  that  he  stepped  over  the  line  into  the  Silent 


476  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

Beyond.  He  was  fearful  of  sinking  down  into  a 
morose  old  age.  This  story  of  Dr.  Broaddus  shows 
that  the  sunlight  played  brightly  over  his  soul  until 
the  night  came : 

The  last  time  I  saw  Dr.  Jeter  was  at  the  Southern  Baptist  Con- 
vention in  Atlanta.  Being  requested  to  conduct  devotional  exer- 
cises during  the  first  morning,  he  read  the  last  chapter  of  Second 
Timothy,  the  Apostle  Paul's  farewell  words  to  the  world.  With 
a  very  quiet  and  tender  allusion  to  his  own  advanced  age,  he  of- 
fered expository  remarks  upon  the  passage  read,  which  seemed  as 
thoughtful,  tasteful  and  impressive  as  anything  I  ever  heard.  I 
think  it  was  during  that  meeting  that  Dr.  Manly  and  I  were 
walking  with  him  down  street.  Something  that  was  said  led  him 
to  observe  that  in  youth  he  had  determined  that  if  he  should  live  to 
be  an  old  man  he  would  not  fall  into  the  fashion  so  common  among 
the  old  of  imagining  everything  was  growing  worse.  Suddenly 
stopping  on  the  sidewalk,  and  turning  to  us  with  a  characteristic 
quick  movement  and  peculiar  look,  he  added,  "And  I  should  no 
doubt  have  carried  out  my  resolution ;  but,  unfortunately  for  me, 
since  I  became  an  old  man,  things  have  all  been  getting  worse." 
And  then  he  laughed,  as  we  started  on,  with  that  comical  laugh 
which  we,  who  loved  him,  remember  so  well,  and  the  very  memory 
of  which  has  power  to  awaken  cheerful  feeling. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

THE  HAPPY  END. 

DR.  JETER'S  love  of  life  was  wonderfully  intense. 
It  was,  in  the  days  of  his  prime,  his  ruling  pas- 
sion, though  not  strong  in  death.  He  some- 
times expressed  the  wish  to  live  a  hundred  years. 
During  the  times  of  his  freshness,  and  strength,  his 
whole  being  glowed  with  vital  enthusiasm.  He 
loved  to  live.  He  loved  nature,  loved  men,  loved 
conflict,  loved  honor,  loved  to  think,  loved. to  grow, 
loved  to  learn,  and  loved  to  love.  The  blasts  of 
adversity  sometimes  struck  him  rudely,  and  his  bur- 
dens often  got  heavy,  but  sorrow  never  weakened,  in 
him,  the  earthly  tie.  The  sea  of  life  was  often  rough, 
and  threw  its  blinding  spray  into  his  face,  but 
the  waves  never  went  over  him.  Loss  and  grief 
quickened  his  vitality.  The  future  was  his  friend, 
and,  when  roughly  handled  by  the  present,  he  took 
refuge  in  hope. 

The  springs  in  his  nature  never  wore  out.  Upon 
his  earthly  sky,  there  was  a  never-dying  radiance. 
He  enjoyed,  with  exquisite  zest,  what  was,  and  revel- 
led in  the  expectation  of  what  was  to  come.  He 
was,  in  the  highest  and  purest  sense,  an  optimist. 
His  foot  kept  step  to  the  music  of  progress.  He 
believed  in  the  future  glory  of  humanity,  often  say- 

477 


478  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

ing  that  the  discoveries,  and  inventions  which  have 
already  been  made,  were  but  earnests  of  the  more 
splendid  achievements  which  would  be  made  here- 
after. Then,  too,  he  was  always  hopeful,  as  to  the 
success  of  the  gospel.  He  believed  in  its  Divine 
power,  its  steady  growth  and  its  inevitable  triumph. 
He  was  never  infatuated  with  the  dogmatic  and 
fanatical  teachings  of  the  adventists.  He  did  not 
set  the  day  for  his  Lord's  coming.  But  his  keen- 
eyed  faith  caught  glimpses  of  the  coming  glory. 
Christ  in  his  view,  was  not  only  the  central  figure, 
of  history,  and  the  Great  Head  of  the  church,  but 
he  filled  the  heavens  of  the  future.  These  things 
rendered  his  earthly  existence,  unfailingly  bright, 
and  kept  him  in  high  and  joyous  humor.  This 
world  was  almost  a  heaven  to  him. 

Not  that  he  dreaded  death.  He  knew  his  frail- 
ties, and  foresaw  the  inevitable.  But  death  stood  far 
from  him,  and  rarely  annoyed  him  with  its  harbin- 
gers. His  deep,  passionate  love  of  life  did  not  spring 
from  a  mere  horror  of  the  grave.  He  longed  to  live, 
because  life  was  worth  living. 

He  was  not  tormented  by  any  uncertainty  as  to 
his  future.  He  did  not  cling  to  the  ship  from  a 
dread  of  the  sea.  His  arrangements,  as  he  some- 
times calmly  said,  were  made  for  eternity.  His 
faith  in  Christ,  as  his  Saviour,  was  a  conscious  thing. 
He  knew  Him  whom  he  believed,  and  was  strong. 
I  heard  him  say  publicly,  several  times,  that  if  his 
religious  hopes  were  not  well  founded,  he  would  prob- 
ably die  without  finding  it  out.  He  was  so  clear 
in  his  assurance,  so  deep  and  strong  in  his  joy,  and 


THE  HAPPY  END.  479 

so  entranced  by  his  heavenly  anticipations,  that  he 
said,  if  deluded,  he  never  expected  to  be  undeceived. 
Whether  saved  or  lost  when  he  died,  he  had  in  him. 
while  he  lived  the  unclouded  persuasion  that  he 
would  be  saved.     Eternity  had  no  terror  for  him. 

As  he  grew  older,  the  grace  of  God'  sanctified, 
without  extinguishing,  his  vital  ardor.  He  came 
gradually  to  link  more  intimately  his  labors  with 
his  life.  For  him  to  live  was  Christ.  The  highest 
charm  of  his  latter  days  was  his  work. 

Pleasure  and  recreation  only  whetted  his  energies, 
and  seasoned  his  toils.  He  was  no  drudge,  spurred  for- 
ward by  necessity  or  by  fear.  As  a  trusted  servant, 
free  to  choose  his  tasks,  he  was  eager  to  surprise  his 
master,  by  the  measure  and  the  manner  of  his  service. 

In  1870,  he  had  a  sudden  and  dangerous  sickness. 
His  disease  was  peculiar,  difficult  to  reach,  and  liable 
to  produce  speedy  death.  It  laid  him  very  low, 
racked  him  with  suffering,  and  brought  him,  face  to 
face,  with  the  dread  monster.  His  calmness  was 
extraordinary.  Apart  from  his  physical  anguish,  he 
betrayed  no  sign  of  weakness.  He  was  not  afraid 
to  die,  but  he  was  utterly  unwilling  to  die.  He 
evinced  an  almost  obstinate  determination,  not  to 
die.  He  said  that  he  was  not  ready  to  leave  the 
world.  He  had  no  enemies  to  reconcile,  nor  ha- 
bits to  break,  nor  business  complications  to  set- 
tle, and  he  did  not  ask  for  time  to  examine  anew, 
the  foundation  of  his  hopes,  but  he  did  have  a  pro- 
found conviction  that  his  work  was  not  finished. 
He  insisted,  that  he  must  be  cured,  and  persevered, 
until  he  discovered  the  surgical  expert  who  gave 


480  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

him  relief.  At  the  critical  moment,  when  death 
seemed  imminent,  he  was  rescued.  He  speedily 
regained  his  vigor,  and  returned  to  his  work,  but,  I 
think,  that,  ever  afterwards,  he  looked  upon  his  life 
as,  in  a  peculiar  sense,  a  loan  from  the  Lord.  He 
wore  the  sobered  mien  of  one  who  had  heard  the 
ringing  of  the  first  bell.  His  sense  of  age  and 
frailty  grew  stronger. 

A  brother  congratulated  him  on  his  recovery,  and 
said  something  as  to  his  perennial  youth.  He  re- 
plied in  a  serene,  and  yet  wonderfully  solemn  way  : 
"  No  ;  my  youth  is  gone.  I  am  now  old,  and  I  must 
not  shut  my  eyes  to  the  fact."  He  said,  next  to 
nothing,  about  his  death,  and,  yet  in  my  frequent 
intercourse  with  him,  he  was  constantly  making  me 
understand,  that  the  thought  of  dying  was  in  his 
mind.  He  did  this,  with  such  delicate  and  wordless 
art,  that  I  could  not  tell  when  or  how  it  was  done. 
He  was  always  reminding  me,  and  yet  never  remind- 
ing me,  of  his  approaching  end.  Now  and  then,  per- 
chance, he  dropped  a  word  which  hinted  the  secret 
of  his  thoughts,  but  never  by  word,  nor  act  did  he 
suggest,  that  the  coming  event  cast  a  shadow  across 
his  soul.  Death  was  a  decree  of  heaven,  and  he 
was  submissive. 

At  the  Southern  Baptist  Convention,  which  met  in 
Nashville,  Tenn.,  in  1878,  he  was  called  out,  one 
morning,  to  speak.  As  he  slowly  ascended  the  plat- 
form, there  was,  in  his  appearance,  a  mellow  and 
chastened  dignity  which  no  words  could  describe. 
After  addressing  the  president,  he  paused  for  several 
moments,  with  his  head  gently  bowed  and  a  tinge  of 


THE  HAPPY  END.  481 

sadness  on  his  face,  and  then  said  in  measured  ac- 
cents :  "  I  came  to  this  meeting,  brethren,  with  the 
purpose  to  behave  myself  as  a  weaned  child — not  in- 
tending to  speak  one  word."  This  was  followed  by 
another  pause.  The  scene  was  impressive.  It  was 
luminous  with  great  suggestions.  It  told  more 
plainly  than  words,  that  the  old  veteran  was  quietly 
unbuckling  his  armor  and  preparing  to  retire  from 
the  battle-field.  To  his  more  observant  friends,  it 
was  evident  enough  for  several  years,  that  he  was 
noiselessly  untying  his  boat  and  getting  ready  for 
the  voyage. 

He  believed  fully  in  the  doctrine  of  the  future 
state.  He  said  that  he  had  recast  many  of  his  old 
opinions,  but  as  to  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  the 
reward  of  the  righteous,  the  ruin  of  the  wicked,  and 
the  exaltation  of  Christ,  he  believed  them  with  a 
faith  which  had  been  growing  for  sixty  years.  Dr. 
Jeter  believed  in  an  intermediate  state, — not  in  a 
state  of  isolation  or  of  unconsciousness  for  the  de- 
parted soul,  but  in  the  dwelling  of  the  disembodied 
and  redeemed  spirit,  in  the  presence  of  God,  until  the 
day  of  the  resurrection.  Death  opened  to  him  the 
Pauline  vision  of  an  instant  presence  with  the  Lord. 

We  attach  deep  significance  to  the  dying  testimony 
of  saints.  It  is  valuable.  It  comforts  the  survivor 
and  braces  faith  in  the  sustaining  power  of  the  gos- 
pel. Dr.  Jeter  estimated  such  testimony  very 
highly.  In  the  several  memoirs  which  he  wrote,  he 
relates  carefully  the  last  utterances  of  his  subjects. 
He  groups  the  death-bed  words  of  Daniel  Witt  into 
a  paragraph,  surpassingly  beautiful  and  pathetic. 
31 


482  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

But  I  confess  that  the  most  impressive  fact  con- 
nected with  Dr.  Jeter's  last  sickness  was  his  silence. 
He  knew  that  his  end  was  at  hand ;  at  least  he  was 
strongly  persuaded  of  it.  He  threw  out  occasional 
remarks  which  indicated  this  feeling,  and  yet  he  did 
not  speak,  with  any  great  freedom,  as  to  his  eternal 
prospects. 

There  was  always  a  notable  modesty  in  his  faith, 
or,  rather,  an  indisposition  to  speak  too  confidently 
about  himself.  It  was  only  when  wrought  into 
spiritual  excitement,  that  he  seemed  inclined  to  talk 
of  his  heavenly  hopes.  He  said  to  his  wife  that  he 
had  been  trying  to  pray,  but  that  his  thoughts 
seemed  to  be  confused.  His  sufferings  interrupted 
his  devotional  exercises,  and  this  may  have  had 
something  to  do  with  his  reticence  on  spiritual  topics. 
Besides,  he  did  not  know,  by  any  extraordinary  pre- 
sentiment, that  death  was  at  hand,  and  he  was  too 
kind  to  excite  needless  fears  in  others. 

But  it  was  like  him  to  be  quiet  in  solemn  moments. 
He  heard  the  footsteps  of  the  heavenly  messenger 
and  a  great  hush  fell  upon  him.  He  was  still,  that 
he  might  hear  the  summons.  But  even  his  silence 
was  voiceful.  It  had  about  it,  the  traces  of  a  great 
solemnity. 

I  do  not  mean  that  he  was  absolutely  silent.  His 
ejaculatory  prayers,  his  frequent  testimonies  to  the 
goodness  of  God,  his  deepened  sweetness  of  manner 
to  his  loved  ones,  his  outspoken  joy  in  greeting  his 
friends,  his  repetition  of  Scripture,  his  snatches  of 
holy  song  in  moments  of  relief,  and  even  his  tem- 
pered pleasantries  were  so  many  testimonials  to  the 


THE  HAPPY  END.  483 

steadfastness  of  his  faith,  the  comfort  of  his  hope 
and  the  strength  of  his  love. 

It  cannot  be  truly  said,  that  he  was  ever  despond- 
ent during  his  last  sickness.  He  had  a  desire  to 
live,  but  a  desire  long  subdued  to  the  Divine  will, 
and  limited,  by  the  yet  stronger  desire  not  to  live, 
unless  he  could  work.  It  was  not  for  a  man  like 
him,  to  part  company,  with  so  happy  a  world  as  this, 
without  a  pang  of  regret.  From  the  earthward  side 
it  was  a  sore  affliction  to  die.  He  measured  the 
probabilities  of  his  recovery,  and  used  all  possible 
means  to  prolong  his  life.  Solemn  and  anxious,  his 
situation  made  him,  but  not  despondent. 

His  spirit  never  lost  its  playfulness.  A  lady 
called  one  morning  and  found  him  alone  in  his 
chamber,  in  a  studying  gown,  much  the  worse  for 
wear.  In  reply  to  her  question  as  to  how  he  felt,  he 
said,  "  My  condition  is  comfortable,  but  my  appear- 
ance is  frightful."  He  then  explained  that  he  had 
another  gown — a  new  one  and  very  fine — too  fine  to 
be  sick  in. 

Before  his  fire,  was  a  rug  on  which  were  the  fig- 
ures of  two  dogs,  suddenly  aroused  by  the  approach 
of  a  cat,  and  ready  for  a  battle.  This  scene  caught 
his  eye,  and  seemed  greatly  to  entertain  him.  He 
indulged  in  humorous  surmises,  as  to  the  probable 
issue  of  the  impending  conflict.  He  lectured  the 
dogs  and  counselled  the  cats.  By  this  and  other 
means,  he  did  much  to  break  the  tedium  and  dispel 
the  gloom  of  his  sick  chamber. 

To  one  of  his  friends  he  gave,  a  few  days  before  his 
death,  a  graphic  account  of  his  experience  in  estab- 


484  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

lishing  the  First  African  church  in  Richmond.  The 
whole  scene  seemed  opened  before  him,  and  he  re- 
hearsed it,  with  a  vividness  enhanced,  perhaps,  by  the 
undue  excitement  under  which  he  was  then  laboring. 

In  physical  suffering,  he  was  a  child.  He  had 
known  very  little  of  it,  and  could  not  bear  it,  so 
bravely,  as  some.  His  paroxysms  were  terrible,  and 
he  came  to  dread  them.  It  was,  perhaps,  under  that 
feeling  that  he  said,  beforehand,  of  the  night  in 
which  he  died  :  "  I  am  apprehensive  of  this  night." 
Deep  words  they  may  have  been,  and  laden  with  a 
meaning  unknown  to  us.  Perchance  he  penetrated 
the  shadows  of  that  night,  and  saw  the  dome  of  the 
Eternal  City.  Perchance  his  quickened  sense  caught 
sound  of  the  angel,  as  he  unlocked  the  gate  of 
heaven,  to  let  him  in.  At  least  he  saw  the  solemn 
crisis  in  his  fate,  and  named  the  very  hour  when  the 
supreme  struggle  would  occur. 

With  characteristic  forethought  he  arranged  his 
temporal  affairs  with  a  view  to  death.  He  be- 
queathed his  library  and  manuscripts  to  Richmond 
College — a  simple  act  of  generosity  and,  yet  richly 
fruitful,  for,  out  of  it,  sprang  the  costly  and  magnifi- 
cent Library  Hall,  which  is  now  the  most  imposing 
feature  of  the  college  which  he  loved  so  well.  He 
also  expressed  a  desire  for  the  republication  of  his 
works,  and  sermons,  and  requested  Dr.  John  A. 
Broadus  to  act  as  his  literary  executor.  This  service, 
owing  to  manifold  engagements,  Dr.  Broadus  felt  it 
necessary  to  decline,  to  his  own  regret  and  to  the  regret 
of  many  others,  but  to  none  so  much  as  this  writer. 

Many  allusions  have  already  been  made  to  Dr. 


THE  HAPPY  END.  485 

Jeter's  physique.  It  was  an  almost  perfect  organism. 
It  worked  like  a  thoroughly  adjusted,  and  well-lubri- 
cated engine,  and  performed  its  varied  functions, 
with  almost  unbroken  regularity,  for  nearly  four- 
score years.  Its  muscles  never  contracted,  nor  stiff- 
ened to  the  hurt  of  his  work. 

But  after  all,  it  was  a  body.  It  had  upon  it,  the 
seal  of  mortality.  It  could  not  resist  the  silent  work 
of  deterioration.  It  was  well  made  and  faithfully 
preserved,  but  it  was  made  to  die.  Neither  native 
vigor,  nor  the  wisest  moderation,  nor  the  broadest 
and  most  pervasive  piety,  nor  the  highest  medical 
art  could  protect  it  from  decay.  Dust  it  was,  and 
unto  dust  it  had  at  last  to  come. 

When  he  died  not  a  few  persons  evinced  a  desire 
to  ascertain  the  physical  causes  of  his  death.  As 
this  is  a  topic  with  which  I  do  not  feel  capable  of 
dealing,  I  am  pleased  to  present  a  statement  from 
his  physician,  Dr.  M.  L.  James,  on  that  subject. 
He  not  only  speaks  as  an  expert,  but  his  paper 
breathes  a  spirit  fully  in  harmony  with  the  religious 
character  of  this  volume. 


Dr.  Jeter's  physical  organization  was  one  of  the  most  perfect  I 
have  ever  known,  and  until  the  last  ten  years  of  his  life  the  functions 
of  his  body  were  as  well  performed  as  the  outlines  of  his  figure  were 
well  proportioned.  This  perfection  was  the  result  of  a  naturally  vig- 
orous constitution  and  exceptionably  good  habits  in  meeting  the  re- 
quirements of  health.  To  a  degree  observed  by  few  other  men  that 
I  have  known,  he  was  temperate  in  all  things.  He  never  used  to- 
bacco, stimulants,  or  any  agents  which  specially  impress  the  nervous 
system,  except  coffee  and  tea,  and  these  even  in  moderation.  And 
yet  he  had  no  element  of  asceticism  in  his  character,  and  subjected 
himself  to  no  rigors  of  physical  discipline;  but  enjoyed  the  creature 
comforta  of  life — using  without  abusing  them.  He  was  as  literally 
conservative  in  their  use  as,  in  social  and  moral  relations,  he  was 
conservative  in  questions  of  public  policy.  His  digestion  was  phe- 
nomenally perfect  for  a  student,  and  his  nervous  system  so  well  poised 


486  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

that  to  the  last  year  of  his  life  there  was,  what  is  so  rarely  seen  in 
men  of  his  age,  not  a  trace  of  unsteadiness  in  his  carriage  nor  in  his 
hand-writing.  He  had  an  immense  capacity  for  work,  and  work  was 
the  joy  of  his  life.  I  have  seen  him,  when  in  heated  seasons  of  the 
summer  the  temperature  was  so  extreme  that  most  men  thought  only 
of  securing  a  degiee  of  comfort  which  made  life  tolerable,  work  with 
an  intensity  of  energy  that  would  have  been  commendable  when  the 
thermometer  was  at  zero.  And  yet  I  never  knew  him  to  work  exces- 
sively except  at  one  period  (to  be  presently  referred  to),  when  mis- 
led by  over-estimating  his  powers  of  endurance.  In  his  observance 
of  the  laws  of  physical  health,  as  in  other  respects,  he  exhibited  his 
usual  wisdom  and  piety,  recognizing  that  the  same  God  who  has  or- 
dained moral  laws  has  also  established  physical  laws,  and  their  vio- 
lation is  both  sinful  and  injurious.  Under  such  discipline — discipline 
truly  judicious  tho'  not  austere ;  I  may  say,  Godly  discipline — Dr. 
Jeter  developed  a  body  which  was  a  fit  instrument  for  his  soul,  and 
without  a  body  of  such  strength  he  could  never  have  accomplished 
in  life  what  he  did  accomplish ;  and  become,  as  in  the  judgment  of 
many  thoughtful  men  he  did  become,  one  of  the  most  truly  great 
men  which  his  State  has  produced  in  his  generation. 

Under  such  regimen  his  strength  remained  unabated  almost  to  the 
last.  Ten  years  previous  to  his  death,  to  the  professional  inquirer, 
searching  for  the  evidences  of  decline,  there  were  some  organic 
changes  common  to  advancing  years,  that  could  be  detected ;  but  to 
the  ordinary  observer,  he  would  have  appeared  as  being  in  the  full 
possession  of  his  physical  faculties.  Three  or  four  years  previous  to 
his  death,  however,  the  wearing  effect  of  time  was  distinct,  but  not 
marked.  It  was  about  the  beginning  of  this  period  that  I  remember 
meeting  him  upon  the  pavement  one  day,  and  being  struck  by  the 
remarkable  elasticity  of  his  movements,  with  a  familiarity  made 
allowable  in  the  disparity  of  our  ages  by  his  own  genial  spirit,  I 
remarked  interrogatively,  " Still  growing  younger?"  He  answered 
with  some  seriousness,  but  no  sadness :  No ;  I  feel  that  I  am  grow- 
ing older." 

But  to  the  last  year  of  his  life,  I  never  perceived  any  decline  in 
the  faculties  of  his  mind.  In  this  connection  I  may  repeat  a  re- 
mark strikingly  illustrative  ot  his  mental  traits  and  of  his  wisdom. 
Coming  into  his  presence  one  day,  he  half-playfully  and  half-seriously 
remarked  to  me:  "  I  have  just  been  thinking  how  I  should  find  out 
when  I  had  got  into  my  dotage." 

Another  result,  doubtless,  of  his  judicious  regimen,  was  his  ex- 
emption from  serious  sickness  through  nearly  his  entire  life.  He  in- 
formed me  that,  except  a  short  spell  of  malarial  fever  during  his  pas- 
torate in  the  Northern  Neck  of  Virginia,  which  in  such  an  atmosphere 
was  probably  unavoidable,  until  the  year  1867,  when  he  was  sixty- 
five  years  old,  he  had  never  had  any  sickness  worthy  of  note. 

In  the  spring  of  1867,  however,  after  very  laborious  and  protracted 
work  in  the  editorial  chair  of  the  Religious  Herald,  he  was  seized 
with  very  unpleasant  head  symptoms  which  awakened  serious  appre- 
hensions in  his  own  mind  and  in  the  minds  of  his  friends,  lest  they 
should  prove  the  premonitions  of  paralysis.  Satisfied,  myself,  how- 
ever, that  these  troubles  were  only  a  very  aggravated  form  of  nervous 
prostration,  the  result  of  his  intense  and  protracted  labors,  I  at  first 


THE  HAPPY  END.  487 

advised  (he  having  informed  me  that  it  was  important  that  he  should 
remain  at  home)  that  he  should  reduce  the  amount  and  intensity  of 
his  labor.  But  very  soon  finding  that,  with  his  devotion  to  his  work, 
the  necessary  moderation  was  at  least  uncertain,  as  long  as  he  felt 
the  responsibilities  of  his  office,  I  advised  him  to  take  a  protracted 
season  of  relaxation,  in  a  region  remote  from  the  publication  of  the 
paper.  Under  that  advice  he  spent  an  entire  summer  in  Canada, 
doing  no  writing  whatever,  except  during  the  last  few  weeks  of  his 
vacation,  when  he  sent  an  occasional  letter  to  the  Herald,  descriptive 
of  the  country.  This  respite  from  labor  and  responsibility  had  the 
desired  effect,  and  I  very  well  remember,  upon  his  return,  when  I  met 
him  upon  the  pavement,  his  manner  of  describing  his  delight  and  the 
completeness  of  his  recovery  was,  that  when  he  went  out  to  walk  he 
felt  that  he  wanted  to  fly. 

In  the  summer  of  1870,  again,  while  attending  a  meeting  of  the 
Middle  District  Association,  in  the  county  of  Powhatan,  he  was  seized 
with  a  violent  inflammation  of  the  bladder,  a  result  in  part  of  one  of 
the  organic  changes  referred  to  as  the  product  of  advanced  life.  His 
sufferings  were  intense,  and  with  great  difficulty  he  reached  his  home. 
For  several  days  afterwards  life  seemed  to  be  hanging  by  a  thread. 
The  public  mind  was  greatly  exercised  at  his  alarming  illness.  There 
were  repeated  meetings  of  his  brethren  for  prayer  for  his  deliverance. 
God  answered  those  prayers,  and  in  a  comparatively  short  time,  after 
a  season  of  the  most  intense  suffering  and  extreme  prostration,  he  was 
as  completely  restored  as  the  organic  changes  would  allow. 

From  that  time  to  the  middle  of  January,  1880,  Dr.  Jeter's  health 
was  good.  Then  there  was  a  return  of  the  last  trouble,  as  a  result  of 
cold.  It  was  in  a  mild  form  at  first,  but  in  the  course  of  a  day  or  two 
became  so  serious  that  he  sought  my  counsel.  For  four  days  the 
trouble  was  marked  by  great  severity,  but  then  responded  so  favor- 
ably to  treatment,  that  hopes  were  inspired  that  in  a  short  time  he 
would  again  be  able  to  resume  his  accustomed  labors.  While  suffer- 
ing from  considerable  physical  debility,  his  mind  seemed  as  vigorous 
as  ever,  and  he  was  disposed  to  indulge  his  natural  playfulness,  which 
is  remembered  by  his  friends  as  so  characteristic.  Occasionally,  how- 
ever, he  expressed  some  doubts  as  to  the  final  issue,  and  more  than 
once  expressed  the  hope  that  his  life  might  terminate  with  his  capa- 
city for  usefulness.  During  this  period  I  saw  him  daily.  He  was  en- 
tirely submissive,  and  his  faith  was  always  steadfast. 

On  Monday,  Tuesday  and  Wednesday  of  the  week  preceding  his 
death  he  rode  out  each  day,  and  enjoyed  the  rides,  except  that  of 
Wednesday.  My  visits  were  interrupted  at  this  time  by  my  own  in- 
disposition, but  he  afterwards  informed  me  that  on  that  day  he  was 
greatly  chilled  and  experienced  a  sense  of  great  fatigue,  and  on  Fri- 
day was  seized  with  a  severe  pain  in  the  region  of  the  heart. 

Resuming  my  visits  on  Saturday,  I  saw  at  a  glance  that  something 
had  occurred  to  sap  the  very  foundations  of  his  vital  forces.  An  ex- 
amination made  it  very  distinct  that  serious  inflammation  of  the  in- 
terior structures  of  the  heart  had  taken  place,  constituting  the  disease 
known  among  physicians  as  endo-carditis .  This  was  attended  by 
more  than  the  usual  amount  of  constitutional  shock,  with  the  compli- 
cation of  congestion  of  the  lungs. 

This  condition  continued  throughout  Saturday,  Sunday  and  a  por- 


488  ^IFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

tion  of  Monday,  he  being  delirious  to  a  greater  or  less  degree  during 
these  days.  His  delirium  was  rather  that  of  an  unnatural  activity  of 
mind  than  that  of  an  irrational  condition.  Whenever  his  attention 
was  strongly  aroused  he  was  entirely  himself. 

The  exhibition  of  mental  power  during  this  period  was  wonderful. 
I  heard  him  make  arguments  which,  in  logical  force  and  compass  of 
thought,  would  have  done  credit  to  any  man  in  the  country,  under 
any  circumstances.  Sometimes,  notwithstanding  the  wide-spread 
wreck  of  his  physical  powers,  his  intellect  would  blaze  out  like  a  me- 
teor. The  defence  of  the  plenary  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures  was  a 
subject  upon  which  he  was  greatly  exercised,  and  was  a  theme  of  de- 
liverance worthy  of  a  permanent  record. 

Neither  in  his  delirium,  nor  at  any  time  during  his  sickness,  did  I 
hear  from  him  a  single  word  wanting  in  faith,  justice  and  charity. 

On  Monday  marked  symptoms  of  amelioration  occurred,  which 
continued  to  within  an  hour  of  his  death — his  mind  becoming  en- 
tirely clear  when  he  was  fully  awake.  During  the  morning  of 
Tuesday  Mrs.  Jeter,  stating  to  him  that  the  family  thought  him  bet- 
ter, asked  him  what  he  thought  of  himself.  He  replied  that  he 
thought  his  condition  very  serious,  but  immediately  added,  "the 
Lord  reigneth,  let  the  earth  rejoice."  Throughout  the  day  he  re- 
peatedly expressed  a  presentiment  of  coming  trouble  at  night,  and 
even  designated  the  hour  of  three  o'clock  as  the  time  when  the  trou- 
ble would  begin. 

At  bed-time  I  called  for  the  purpose  of  spending  the  night  with 
him,  as  I  had  spent  the  preceding  night.  With  his  characteristic 
consideration  for  the  comfort  of  others,  he  insisted,  with  much  of 
earnestness,  that  inasmuch  as  I  was  not  well,  and  he  was  so  much 
better,  I  should  go  home  for  a  quiet  night's  rest.  As  I  lived  but  two 
squares  off,  for  his  gratification,  I  reluctantly  consented,  feeling  too 
anxious  as  to  his  condition  to  leave  him  with  complete  satisfaction 
tor  the  entire  night. 

At  three  o'clock,  true  to  his  presentiment,  he  was  seized  with  in- 
tense suffering.  I  very  soon  reached  him  and  found  him  experienc- 
ing an  unmistakable  paroxysm  of  angina  pectoris.  For  the  unpro- 
fessional reader,  I  would  say  that,  usually,  this  disease  is  confined  to 
persons  advanced  in  life,  and  while  occurring  in  sudden  paroxysms, 
it  being  associated  with  grave  organic  changes,  and  involving  the 
most  vital  organ  of  the  body,  is,  in  such  cases,  almost  invariably  fatal. 
The  more  obvious  expression  of  these  paroxysms  is  a  violent  spasm 
of  the  heart.  Besides  the  extreme  pain,  it  is  attended  with  an  over- 
powering sense  of  distress,  such  as  is  realized  in  scarcely  any  form  of 
physical  suffering. 

But  a  few  months  before  Charles  Sumner,  the  distinguished  Senator 
from  Massachusetts,  had  died  of  it,  and  it  is  rather  remarkable  that  so 
many  eminent  men  have  died  of  it.  When  I  reached  him  he  was  pale, 
cold  and  pulseless,  but  entirely  conscious.  His  consciousness  was, 
however,  unavoidably  absorbed  in  his  physical  agony,  which  was  so 
distinctly  expressed  in  his  features  that  it  was  painful  to  look  upon 
him.  He  remarked  to  me:  "  Doctor,  this  will  carry  me  off,"  and  it 
was  but  too  sadly  apparent  that  his  statement  was  true. 

I  was,  of  course,  engrossed  in  devising  and  applying  every  con- 
ceivable measure  of  relief,  and  yet  I  can  still  remember  the  scene  as 


THE  HAPPY  END.  489 

one  of  the  most  impressive  I  have  ever  witnessed.  Hanging  upon 
the  wall  above  the  great  sufferer  and  now  dying  saint  was  the  picture 
of  his  distinguished  co-laborer  and  devoted  friend,  Dr.  Richard  Ful- 
ler, who  had  already  crossed  the  river  a  short  time  before.  Pasted 
upon  the  frame  of  this  picture  was  the  last  letter  which  Dr.  Fuller 
had  from  his  dying  bed  sent  to  him  who  was  so  soon  to  follow — only 
three  words,  but  words  so  full  of  meaning  when  uttered,  so  full  of 
significance  as  now  placed — the  supreme  struggle. 

The  merciful  God,  whose  goodness  I  had  so  often  heard  our  vener- 
ated and  dying  father  recount  with  thanksgiving  when  in  health, 
compassionately  made  this,  his  supreme  struggle,  a  brief  one.  In  less 
than  an  hour  he  had  triumphed  over  death,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
more  the  noble  features  which  had  just  now  writhed  in  agony  were 
as  free  from  the  traces  of  pain  as  his  glorified  spirit  was  free  from 
the  traces  of  sin. 


The  death  of  Dr.  Jeter  occurred  at  four  o'clock  on 
Wednesday  morning  Feb.  18th,  1880.  As  he  was 
born  on  the  18th  of  July,  1802,  he  lacked  just  five 
months  of  being  seventy-eight  years  old. 

The  news  of  his  death  speedily  spread  through 
the  city,  and  created  a  profoundly  sad  impression. 
It  really  seemed  as  if  Richmond  was  in  mourning. 
All  classes  of  the  people,  rich  and  poor,  Jew  and 
Christian,  white  and  colored,  seemed  to  feel  the 
mournful  spell.  Nor  was  the  distress  restricted  to 
Richmond.  The  tidings  of  his  death  spread  a  pall 
over  thousands  and  thousands  of  hearts,  not  only  in 
Virginia,  but  in  every  section  of  the  country.  The 
papers,  secular  as  well  as  religious,  published  full 
accounts  of  his  death,  and  in  many  cases  pronounced 
the  highest  eulogies  upon  his  character.  Telegrams 
and  letters,  almost  without  number,  came  with  their 
sad  messages  of  sorrow  and  sympathy.  Churches, 
societies,  boards,  Sunday-schools,  associations  and 
institutions  of  learning  adopted  and  published  reso- 
lutions in  his  honor.  These  it  would  be  pleasant  on 
many  accounts  to  incorporate  in  this  story.     They 


490  LIFE  0F  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

would  not  be  without  their  value,  perhaps,  in  ena- 
bling those  who  did  not  know  Dr.  Jeter,  to  form  an 
estimate  of  his  reputation  and  influence. 

But,  in  the  later  years  of  his  life,  he  had  become 
effectually  weaned  from  the  empty  honors  of  this 
world.  He  cared  nothing  for  them.  They  made  no  im- 
pression on  him.  He  was  quick  to  honor  others,  but 
he  really  desired  nothing  for  himself.  It  strikes  me, 
therefore,  that  it  would  be  more  in  harmony  with 
his  guileless  and  heavenly  spirit,  to  exclude  from  this 
memorial,  these  formal  tributes  of  praise. 

On  Thursday  afternoon  succeeding  his  death,  in 
response  to  a  known  public  wish,  the  remains  of  the 
deceased  were  taken  from  his  home,  and  placed  in 
the  Grace  Street  church,  so  that  those  who  desired 
might  take  a  sad  last  look,  at  the  dear  face  of  this 
venerated  servant  of  the  most  high  God.  For  several 
hours,  a  stream  of  saddened  and  tearful  people  filed 
by  the  coffin  and  viewed  the  body.  Among  these 
were  many  prominent  citizens,  including  Mr.  Holli- 
day,  then  the  Governor  of  Virginia.  I  append  here 
a  list  of  gentlemen,  who  acted  as  pall-bearers  in  the 
removal  of  the  body  to  the  church,  and  also,  of  those 
who  kindly  undertook  the  task  of  draping  the  church 
for  the  funeral. 


Messrs.  T.  J.  Todd,  T.  H.  Ellett,  W.  S.  Pilcher,  G.  B.  Taylor,  Jr., 
Luther  Martin,  James  T.  Dickinson,  S.  S.  Carter,  W.  W.  Lefew, 
A.  E.  Cox,  Dr.  J.  L.  M.  Curry,  J.  T.  Ellyson  and  G.  W.  Henderson. 

The  coffin  lid  bore  the  following  inscription : 

Rev.  De.  J.  B.  Jeter, 
Born  July  18,  1802.     Died  February  18,  1880. 

A  committee,  consisting  of  B.  B.  Van   Buren,  T.  H.  Ellett,  W.  R. 


THE  HAPPY  END.  491 

Hall,  E.  W.  Gates,  Mrs.  Hallowell,  Mrs.  Pilcher,  Mrs.  Ellett,  Miss  J. 
M.  Ballow,  Mrs.  Van  Buren,  Mrs.  J.  N.  Parker,  Mrs.  O.  D.  Browne, 
Mrs.  S.  S.  Carter,  Mrs.  John  E.  Laughton,  and  Mrs.  Dr.  Curry, 
draped  the  galleries  and  pillars  supporting  the  same  and  the  pulpit 
in  mourning. 

The  funeral  was  set  for  twelve  o'clock  on  Thurs- 
day. Long  before  the  time  for  opening  the  house, 
the  churchyard  and  adjacent  streets  were  densely 
thronged  with  people.  Very  many  of  these  were 
unable  to  gain  admission  to  the  church,  notwith- 
standing that  the  great  building  was  crowded,  in 
every  part,  to  its  utmost  capacity.  It  was  estimated 
that  fully  a  hundred  ministers  were  present.  Many 
Baptist  ministers  came  from  great  distances,  at  their 
own  charges,  and  simply,  as  an  act  of  respect.  The 
exercises  were  very  simple.  His  favorite  old  hymns, 
"  How  firm  a  foundation,  ye  saints  of  the  Lord,"  and 
"  Father,  whate'er  of  earthly  bliss,"  were  read,  and 
heartily  sung  by  the  congregation.  Four  addresses 
were  delivered.  They  were,  of  course,  prepared  on 
short  notice,  and  were  not,  perhaps,  elaborately  re- 
ported in  the  papers  at  the  time.  It  seems  due  to 
the  reader  that  some  extracts  from  these  addresses, 
at  least,  should  be  given.     These  we  here  append : 


Rev.  J.  R.  Gaelics,  D.D.,said  that  he  felt  like  a  son,  attempting  to 
officiate  at  the  grave  of  his  father.  When  a  boy,  Dr.  Jeter  had  bap- 
tized him;  to  him,  more  than  to  any  other  man,  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  turn  for  counsel.  He  looked  upon  it,  as  a  precious  boon 
that  he  had  enjoyed  his  friendship,  and  been  guided  by  his  counsel. 

He  remembered  that  when  Taylor,  and  Witt,  and  Poindexter,  and 
William  F.  Broaddus,  and  Fuller,  and  others  of  our  "princes  in  Is- 
rael," had  fallen  at  their  posts  of  duty,  Dr.  Jeter  had  spoken  of  them 
with  deep  feeling  in  one  of  our  great  gatherings,  but  had  added  with 
great  power:  "And  yet,  my  brethren,  while  these  have  died,  Jesus 
lives ;  the  Lord  reigns,  the  foundations  of  His  kingdom  are  not  re- 
moved, and  we  must  go  forward  with  hope  to  our  appointed  work." 


492  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

And  so  he  would  say  as  we  stand  by  the  cold  clay  of  the  grand  old 
man  we  were  about  to  bury. 

Rev.  T.  S.  Dunaway,  D.D.,  of  Fredericksburg,  Dr.  Jeter's  intimate 
friend,  said : 

"  For  the  last  twenty  years,  I  have  known  him  most  intimately. 
Perbaps  no  two  men  whose  ages,  and  gifts  were  so  unequal,  were  ever 
on  terms  of  closer  and  more  constant  friendsbip.  And  I  shall 
ever  regard,  it  as  an  honor,  tbat  I  enjoyed  the  love  and  confidence  of 
such  a  man,  and  a  blessing,  that  I  was  ever  brought  under  his  in- 
fluence. 

"  Take  him  altogether — physically,  intellectually  and  morally — I 
regard  Bro.  Jeter  as  one  of  the  noblest  and  highest  types  of  his  race 
that  I  have  known.  His  character  was  beautilully  symmetrical,  made 
up,  as  it  was,  of  a  rare  combination  of  the  highest  qualities  of  head  and 
heart,  without  that  admixture  of  blemishes  and  defects,  however  small, 
which  so  often  mar  the  characters  of  good  and  great  men. 

"His  judgment  was  sound,  discriminating  and  impartial.  His 
counsels  were  wise,  safe  and  prudent.  His  friendship  was  warm, 
faithful  and  constant.  His  judgment  of  men  was  lenient  and  chari- 
table. As  a  polemic  and  debater,  he  was  just,  ingenuous,  tolerant 
and  open  to  conviction,  for  he  was  ever  in  search  of  the  truth.  As  a 
companion,  he  was  genial  and  pleasant,  enjoying  the  innocent  joke, 
yet  never  undignified. 

"  But  Dr.  Jeter  was  to  be  loved  and  admired  especially  for  his 
qualities  of  heart.  Those  best  acquainted  with  his  private  and  inner 
life  know  him,  to  have  been  a  man  of  singular  purity  of  heart,  thought 
and  expression.  Every  word  he  uttered,  and  every  thought  he  ex- 
pressed showed  that  they  came  forth  from  a  pure  fountain.  His  piety 
was  of  the  simplest  and  highest  type.  He  was  a  close  and  daily  stu- 
dent of  the  word  of  God,  and  a  man  given  to  prayer.  The  last  time 
I  saw  him,  and  the  last  moments  I  spent  with  him,  were,  at  his  re- 
quest, moments  of  prayer.  He  then  talked  of  his  hopes  and  pros- 
pects of  heaven, saying : 

"  '  I  am  a  poor  sinner, 
And  nothing  at  all ; 
Christ  Jesus  my  Lord 
Is  my  all  in  all.'  " 

Rev.  D.  S.  Doggett,  D.D.,  Bishop  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  South,  said  that  the  vast  throng  present  was  there  to  honor  a 
faithful  and  distinguished  minister  of  Jesus.  He  was  there  to  pay 
a  tribute  to  one  whom  he  had  known  and  loved  for  forty-five 
years.  The  first  Baptist  preacher  whom  he  had  ever  heard  was 
Dr.  Jeter,  preaching  in  the  house  of  the  grandfather  of  Dr.  Dun- 
away. 

He  was  a  pronounced  Baptist,  but  none  the  less  a  pronounced 
christian,  and  his  life  was  a  christian  royalty  which  all  rejoiced  to 
acknowledge  and  claim  for  our  common  Christianity.  There  was  not 
an  evangelical  minister  in  Richmond  who  had  not  grieved  at  his 
death.  He  had  done  his  work,  and  God  had  said,  "It  is  enough; 
come  up  higher."  He  made  the  christian's  "living  sacrifice,"  and 
now  its  sweet  odors  are  floating  on  the  air.  He  did  not  feel  that  this 
was  only  an  hour  to  mourn ;  we  could  also  make  it  an  hour  of  re- 


THE  HAPPY  END.  493 

joicing.  This  was  a  funeral,  but  a  funeral  illuminated  and  robbed  of 
its  gloom.  Death  was  there,  but  death  was  robbed  of  his  terrors.  It 
was  a  blessing  for  this  man  of  God  to  have  lived.  It  was  also  a  bless- 
ing for  him  to  have  died.  His  death  was  not  an  eclipse,  but  a  setting 
of  the  full-orbed  sun,  while  his  golden  rays  still  linger  behind.  He 
is  not  dead,  but  has  been  translated — has  gone  to  meet  his  Lord  in 
glory. 

Dr.  J.  L.  M.  Curry  made  the  closing  address,  and  began  by  saying 
that  the  tearful  audience  and  the  manifestations  of  christian  frater- 
nity and  communion,  as  just  expressed  by  Bishop  Doggett,  were 
the  proofs,  if  any  were  needed,  that  Dr.  Jeter  had  unusual  claims  to 
respect  and  admiration  and  love.  No  one  who  knew  Dr.  Jeter  would 
hesitate  to  put  him  among  the  aristocracy  of  the  world.  As  a 
preacher,  a  pastor,  an  editor,  a  citizen,  a  christian,  he  lived  up  to  the 
measure  of  developed  faculties,  and  was  "  an  Israelite  in  whom  there 
was  no  guile." 

Those  who  knew  Dr.  Jeter  but  slightly  detected  readily  his  trans- 
parency of  character,  his  child-like  simplicity,  his  unsuspecting  guile- 
lessness,  his  generosity,  courage,  integrity,  truthfulness.  Few 
knew  how  instinctively  he  shrank  from  whatever  was  evasive,  disin- 
genuous, insincere,  untruthful.  Fewer  still  may  have  known  that 
while  inflexible  in  his  opinions,  and,  at  times,  engaged  in  high  debate, 
in  religious  or  politico-religious  polemics,  he  bore  himself  so  loftily, 
so  knightly,  as  to  make  friends  of  his  opponents.  Gladstone  says  of 
Macaulay  that,  with  great  uprightness  and  kindliness  of  mind,  he  had 
a  constant  tendency  to  exaggerate,  to  view  things  in  violent  contrasts. 
Dr.  Jeter  never  colored  a  fact,  never  consciously  misstated  an  argu- 
ment, never  depreciated  an  adversary.  He  pursued  only  the  truth, 
but  was  largely  tolerant  and  catholic  in  his  opinions.  Claiming  and 
asserting  his  own  indefeasible  right  of  individual  judgment,  he  con- 
ceded, ungrudgingly,  equal  latitude  and  liberty  to  every  other  man. 

Dr.  Curry  said  he  would  be  doing  injustice  to  Trustees,  Faculty 
and  students  of  Richmond  College  not  to  utter  their  deep  grief  at  the 
loss  of  such  a  benefactor  and  friend.  He  mentioned  that  fifty  years 
ago,  at  5  o'clock  on  a  spring  morning,  Dr.  Jeter  met,  in  the  meeting 
house  of  the  Second  Baptist  church,  Dr.  J.  B.  Taylor  and  a  few 
friends  to  confer  on  the  necessity  of  furnishing  higher  education  to 
young  men  preparing  for  the  ministry.  Out  of  that  conference  grew 
the  Education  Board,  and  from  that  Board  sprang  Richmond  College. 
For  the  half-century  since,  save  the  few  years  of  residence  in  Mis- 
souri, Dr.  Jeter  had  been  a  member  or  President  of  the  Board  of 
Trustees. 

In  that  connection,  Dr.  Curry  said  Dr.  Jeter's  course  deserved 
special  mention  and  praise.  Without  the  advantage  of  a  collegiate, 
or  ministerial  education,  he  became  a  profound  theologian,  well- 
versed  in  general  literature,  and  a  writer  whose  pure  English  and  lu- 
cid style  gained  for  him  the  eulogium  of  the  American  Addison. 
Lifting  himself  above  the  prejudices  of  early  disadvantages,  he  be- 
came the  friend  and  benefactor  of  educational  institutions.  A  back- 
woods preacher  in  early  life,  he  was  the  champion  of  ministerial  edu- 
cation, and  died  the  revered  President  of  the  Trustees  of  the  South- 
ern Baptist  Theological  Seminary,  an  institution  which  commanded 
his  prayers,  energies  and  contributions.     He  also  took  a  deep  interest 


494  LIFE  OF  JEEEMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

in  the  education  of  girls,  and  was  the  President  of  the  Trustees  of 
the  Richmond  Female  Institute.  Nothing  touching  the  welfare  of 
Richmond  College  was  indifferent  to  him,  and  his  last  direct  contri- 
bution to  the  Religious  Herald,  of  which  he  was  the  principal  editor, 
was  in  reference  to  the  college.  Faculty  and  students  always  had  in 
him  a  sympathizing  and  enthusiastic  friend  and  defender.  The 
board  meetings  attested  his  punctuality,  sagacity  and  wide-awake  ac- 
tivities. All  exercises  at  the  College,  even  competitive  declamations 
and  annual  sports  of  the  young  men,  found  him  present  with  the  ap- 
preciativeness  and  gleesome  enjoyableness  of  a  boy. 

At  the  time  of  Dr.  Jeter's  death,  the  Religious 
Herald  had  several  eminent  gentlemen  as  associate 
editors.  These  aided  greatly  in  voicing  the  general 
grief,  by  personal  letters,  which  appeared  in  the 
Herald  of  the  following  week,  in  which  they  gave 
their  estimates  of  their  revered  old  chief.  I  append 
extracts  from  these  letters.  I  may  add  here  that, 
through  the  quick  and  enterprising  spirit  of  the 
junior  editor,  the  Herald  published  an  elaborate  and 
impressive  notice  of  the  death,  including  a  good 
likeness,  an  historical  sketch  and  a  full  account  of  the 
funeral  of  the  deceased. 

LETTER   FROM   DR.   J.  A.  BROADUS. 

Louisville,  Ky.,  Feb.  19,  1880. 

O  what  a  loss !  A  loss  to  Southern  Baptists,  yea  to  American  Bap- 
tists, a  loss  to  the  Southern  Convention,  to  our  Theological  Seminary, 
to  Richmond  College,  to  the  Herald,  to  the  whole  cause  of  truth  and 
righteousness  in  the  world  I  And  there  are  thousands  who  will  say, 
as  the  present  writer  does,  in  deep  sadness,  What  a  loss  to  me ! 

For,  by  those  who  knew  him  well,  he  was  warmly  loved.  I  have  heard 
persons  say  that  he  was  reserved,  and  they  could  not  get  near  him. 
There  was  no  real  foundation  for  this,  except  that  he  was  sometimes 
abstracted,  very  changeful  in  his  m'oods,  and  always  perfectly  natural, 
never  seeming  to  think  of  courting  popularity  by  mere  cordiality  of 
manner.  I  remember  vividly  a  sojourn  of  nearly  two  weeks  under 
his  roof  in  1857,  when  preaching  for  him,  and  day  by  day  I  learned 
to  love  him  more  warmly.  Ah  I  what  a  true  man  he  was,  what  a 
genuine  friend,  how  humble  and  deeply  devout  a  Christian ! 

And  they  who  were  never  near  enough  for  passionate  love,  but  who 
knew  him  at  all,  what  one  among  them,  but  cherished  high  respect  for  his 
sterling  ability,  his  sincerity,  honesty  and  conscientiousness  ?    Many 


THE  HAPPY  END.  495 

have  questioned  the  correctness  of  some  of  his  opinions,  or  the  wis- 
dom of  his  action  in  this  or  that ;  but  whoever  thought  of  question- 
ing that  he  was  doing  what  he  believed  to  be  right,  and  that  he  was 
acting  in  the  fear  of  God  ?  Amid  the  collisions  of  life,  and  the  mani- 
fold exhibitions  of  human  infirmity,  that  is  much  to  say. 

It  was  a  noble  example,  working  his  way  up  without  any  educa- 
tional advantages,  and  by  diligent  and  wise  study,  amid  the  most  ac- 
tive duties  of  the  ministry,  attaining  such  true  mental  discipline,  such 
wide  and  exact  knowledge,  as  his  preaching  and  writing  displayed. 
The  difference  in  men's  advantages  is  a  small  thing  compared  with 
the  difference  in  men. 

He  was  a  preacher  of  great  power.  Very  unequal — frequently  mak- 
ing comparative,  and,  sometimes  signal  failures — but  that  befalls  almost 
all  who  are  excitable  enough  to  rise  high,  and  who  allow  themselves 
freedom  in  speaking.  And  when  his  mood  and  the  circumstances 
were  favorable,  he  not  only  rose  high,  but  he  carried  the  hearers  witb 
him,  for  they  knew  that  he  spoke  that  way  only  when  he  felt  so.  And 
as  to  the  spirit  of  his  editorial  writing,  that  may  now  be  repeated 
which  I  said  some  years  ago  :  I  have  read  nearly  everything  he  has 
published,  during  all  these  fourteen  years,  and  while  he  has  had  many 
editorial  controversies,  has  been  often  sharply  attacked,  and  has  de- 
fended himself  stoutly,  yet,  so  far  as  I  know,  he  has  never  once  be- 
trayed an  unlovely  spirit.  In  looking  solemnly  back  from  the  death- 
bed the  wisest  and  best  of  Christian  men  will  have  a  thousand  things 
to  regret,  if  regrets  be  not  swallowed  up  in  humble  gratitude  and  sus- 
taining hope.  But  as  to  the  spirit  of  it,  I  think  Dr.  Jeter  did  not 
write 

"  One  line  which,  dying,  he  could  wish  to  blot." 

Some  of  us  who  write  for  religious  papers  may  feel  that  we  have 
cause  to  lay  that  example  to  heart. 

LETTER   FROM   DR.  W.  T.  BRANTLY. 

Baltimore,  Feb.  19,  1880. 
My  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Jeter  began  in  the  days  of  my  childhood, 
when  he  was  the  guest  of  my  father,  then  a  pastor  in  Philadelphia. 
He  was  at  the  time  residing,  I  think,  at  Lancaster  C.H.,  Va.,  and  was 
on  a  visit  to  the  City  of  Brotherly  Love  to  see  its  lions,  and  perhaps 
to  attend  to  some  matters  of  business.  We  walked  together  to  the 
Fairmount  Water  Works,  and  I  remember  how  carefully  he  inquired 
into  the  working  of  the  machinery,  intent  on  understanding  every- 
thing he  saw.  During  the  visit  he  preached  in  my  father's  pulpit, 
but  I  have  no  recollection  of  the  sermon,  except  the  peculiar  voice  in 
which  it  was  delivered.  We  met  again,  when  I  was  leaving  Philadel- 
phia, to  enter  college.  Dr.  Fuller  was  my  travelling  companion,  and 
as  we  entered  the  steamboat,  I  recognized  Dr.  Jeter,  and  introduced 
him  to  Dr.  Fuller.  It  was  their  first  meeting,  both  being  en  route  to 
the  Baptist  Triennial  Convention  about  to  meet  in  New  York.  The 
friendship,  begun  in  boyhood,  has  been  strengthened  in  age  ;  and  the 
more  intimately  I  have  known  him,  the  greater  has  been  my  regard 
for  him  as  a  man,  a  christian  and  a  minister.  Though  a  man  of  re- 
markable gifts,  he  was  ever  modest  and  unassuming.  Devoid  of  envy 


496  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

and  jealousy — those  mean  vices  which  sometimes  disfigure  noble 
minds — he  was  the  hearty  eulogist  of  excellence  wherever  he  found 
it.  Among  all  our  denominational  writers  of  the  day,  I  know  not  one 
who  exceeds  him  in  the  felicity  with  which  he  used  his  native  tongue. 
In  brilliancy  of  style,  in  wealth  of  illustration,  in  rhetorical  beauty, 
in  classical  eloquence,  we  have  known  writers  superior  to  Dr.  Jeter  ; 
but,  in  the  power  of  expressing  thought  forcibly  and  exactly,  and  in 
making  his  meaning  patent  to  all,  he  has  had  but  few  equals.  The 
thoughts  of  some  others  may  move  in  a  wider  range  or  take  a  sub- 
limer  sweep,  but  what  he  saw — and  his  horizon  was  far  from  being 
circumscribed — he  saw  clearly,  and  made  hia  readers  see  them  in  like 
manner.  Though  not  ornate,  there  was  a  beauty  in  this  perspicuity 
which  imparted  interest  to  all  his  writings,  whilst  it  set  forth  his  vig- 
orous thinking  to  the  best  advantage. 

LETTER  FROM   DR.  JAMES  UPHAM. 

Chelsea,  Mass.,  Feb.  18,  1880. 

Out  brother  had  done  up  one  large  life-work  when  he  took  his  seat 
in  the  editorial  chair.  But  he  brought  to  it,  and  retained  to  the  last 
article  he  penned,  a  vigor  as  of  youth,  an  experience  as  ripe  as  it  was 
varied,  a  judgment  ever  safe,  and  a  breadth  of  charity  and  a  refined 
courtesy  that  were  unsurpassed.  He  seems  to  me  to  have  lived  two 
full  lives,  and  lived  each  equally  well ;  and  now  he  has  just  gone  on 
to  the  ampler  service  of  the  life  to  come. 

Thoroughly  Southern  by  birth,  education,  sympathy  and  convic- 
tion, he  was  yet  clear-headed  enough  and  large-hearted  enough,  to 
rise  above  mere  sectionalism,  and  to  be  thoroughly  national  in  his 
love,  aspiration  and  labors;  and  no  Southern  man  has  done  more  to- 
ward hastening  the  period  when  North  and  South  shall  be  fully 
united  in  love,  sympathy  and  mutual  helpfulness. 

LETTER   FROM   PROF.   B.   PURYEAR. 

Richmond  College,  Feb.  23,  1880. 

Of  late  years  I  have  been  much  in  the  company  of  Dr.  Jeter,  alike 
from  business,  official  and  social  relations.  In  these  frequent  inter- 
views, his  character  opened  upon  rne,,  in  such  transparent  beauty  and 
simplicity,  that  I  sought  to  make  them  as  frequent  as  possible,  and  at 
length  came  to  feel  that  I  had  lost  my  best  privilege,  my  purest  plea- 
sure, if,  for  any  cause,  I  failed  to  have  at  least  my  Saturday  morn- 
ing's talk — whether  lively  or  severe — with  our  late  loved  and  revered 
associate.  No  man  susceptible  to  impressions,  could  leave  his  pres- 
ence without  realizing  an  influence,  strengthening,  elevating,  ennob- 
ling. His  looks,  his  manner,  his  language,  never  conveyed  the  sug- 
gestion of  evil.  No  man,  I  venture  to  say,  ever  had  the  effrontery  to 
utter  an  impure  thought,  or  propose  a  duplicitous  policy,  in  his 
presence.  Whatever  was  little,  or  base,  or  low,  skulked  from  his 
presence. 

I  have  heard  men  who  are  reputed  greater  preachers  ;  but  does  the 
man  live  who  has  more  effectually  commended  the  gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ?  He  delivered  the  message  of  his  Master  in  words  apt  and 
fit,  in  style  terse,  vigorous  and  clear,  not  seeking  "  enticing  words  of 


THE  HAPPY  END.  497 

man's  wisdom,''  but  content,  like  Paul,  to  preach  only  Christ,  and 
Him  crucified.  He  sought  only  to  convey  the  truth  as  he  believed 
it,  and  his  evident  sincerity  and  singleness  of  purpose  gave  power 
and  unction  to  his  utterances.  Borne  on  by  the  fervor  of  truth  and 
the  glow  of  a  genuine  enthusiasm,  he  frequently  reached  the  loftiest 
heights  of  true  eloquence,  and  so  made  impressions  as  permanent  as 
powerful. 

I  have  kuown  more  profound  scholars,  more  brilliant  men,  than 
Dr.  Jeter ;  it  is  easy  to  find  them  ;  but  when  we  consider  his  vigorous 
common  sense,  that  went  directly  to  the  gist  of  the  matter,  eliminat- 
ing circumstance  and  accident ;  when  we  consider  his  well-balanced 
faculties,  brought,  by  his  own  guidance,  to  their  highest  develop- 
ment, under  the  most  forbidding  circumstances,  showing  an  energy  of 
will  competent  to  conquer  any  opposition ;  above  all,  when  we  con- 
template his  moral  attributes,  his  honesty  and  truth,  his  exact  justice, 
his  unostentatious,  abundant  generosity,  his  sincerity  and  guileless- 
ness,  that  broad,  catholic  spirit  which  entered  into  and  qualified  his 
judgment  of  men  and  things,  his  simple,  unwavering  faith — imme- 
diately patent  to  his  hearers  and  readers — in  the  divine  doctrines  he 
proclaimed  and  practiced,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that,  in  the 
best  and  most  comprehensive  sense  of  the  term,  he  was  the  greatest 
man  I  ever  knew. 

Rev.  William  S.  Plumer,  D.D.,  an  eminent  Pres- 
byterian minister,  was  a  devoted  and  admired  friend 
of  Dr.  Jeter.  Col.  Thomas  J.  Evans  wrote  a  letter 
inviting  Dr.  Plumer,  to  attend  the  funeral.  Unable 
to  come,  he  wrote  the  following  letter : 

Columbia,  S.  C,  Feb.  20,  1880. 
My  Dear  Mr.  Evans, — Some  hours  before  your  letter  reached 
me,  the  train  had  gone — the  last  train  which  can  possibly  reach 
Richmond  before  the  funeral.  Please  state  this  to  the  friends.  I 
loved  and  honored  Dr.  Jeter  very  much.  I  revere  his  memory.  He 
was  an  upright  man,  true  and  noble  ;  a  dear  brother  in  Christ;  and 
an  able  and  faithful  minister  of  the  blessed  gospel.  He  has  got  the 
start  of  me.  But  I  hope  soon  to  meet  him  in  a  better  world.  I  am  a 
sincere  mourner,  though  far  away.  Give  my  love  to  all  who  loved 
my  honored  and  my  blessed  brother.  I  thank  the  friends  for  desiring 
my  presence.  Dr.  Jeter  has  wept  with  me  in  my  affliction.  I  should 
have  considered  it  a  privilege  to  be  one  of  those  who  should  carry 
him  to  his  burial.  Faithfully  yours,        Wm.  S.  Plumer. 

The  following  gentlemen  acted  as  pall-bearers  on 
the  occasion  of  the  funeral : 

THE  PALL-BEARERS. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  the  pall-bearers  :  Rev.  H.  A.  Tupper, 
corresponding  secretary  of  our  Foreign  Mission  Board;  Rev.  Dr.  T. 

32 


498  LIFE  0F  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

L.  Preston,  pastor  of  the  First  Presbyterian  Church  of  Richmond ; 
Judge  R.  L.  C.  Moncure,  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Virginia;  Col.  D. 
G.  Potts,  of  Petersburg ;  Rev.  J.  J.  Lafferty,  editor  of  the  Christian 
Advocate;  James  Thomas,  Jr.,  Hon.  H.  K.  Ellyson,  A.  Y.  Stokes,  A. 
B.  Clarke,  Charles  Ellis,  C.  Jacob,  A.  P.  Fox,  R.  H.  Bosher,  W. 
Goddin,  Thomas  J.  Evans,  Rev.  T.  T.  Eaton,  Rev.  A.  G.  McMana- 
way,  Rev.  J.  H.  Eager,  Rev.  J.  B.  Hutson,  Rev.  C.  H.  Ryland,  Rev. 
S.  C.  Clopton,  Rev.  G.  F.  Williams,  Prof.  H.  H.  Harris,  and  Deacons 
T.  H.  Ellett  and  W.  S.  Pilcher. 

The  day  for  his  burial  was  singularly  beautiful, — 
radiant,  balmy  and  bracing.  Not  only  an  immense 
procession,  but  many  persons,  on  foot,  followed  the 
remains  to  the  grave.  Dr.  Jeter  had  never  provided 
a  section  for  himself  in  the  cemetery.  On  the  morn- 
ing after  his  death  Dr.  Curry  and  myself  went  out 
to  Hollywood,  at  Mrs.  Jeter's  request,  and  selected 
the  spot  for  his  burial. 

Hollywood  is  very  beautiful.  Nature  and  art  have 
combined  to  make  it  a  place  of  rare  attractiveness. 
It  is  a  part  of  that  broken,  rugged  section  of  country 
which  borders  on  James  River,  just  above  the  city, 
and  is  diversified  by  brooks,  shadowed  vales,  hill-tops 
and  native  oaks.  To  these  natural  beauties,  grief 
and  love  have  added  the  choicest  products  of  art.  It 
was  a  favorite  resort  with  Dr.  Jeter.  He  delighted 
to  drive  along  its  shaded  avenues,  admire  its  scenery 
and  talk  of  its  dead.  It  has  now  become  the  home 
of  his  body,  until  the  morning  of  the  resurrection. 
His  grave  is,  on  the  crown  of  its  loftiest  hill,  and  in 
full  view  of  the  celebrated  falls  in  the  river.  It  is 
only  a  little  distant  from  another  elevation  where 
sleeps  the  dust  of  James  Monroe  and  John  Tyler, 
former  Presidents  of  the  United  States.  Not  long 
after  Dr.  Jeter's  death,  Dr.  Plumer,  who  had  express- 
ed the  hope  of  soon  meeting  him  in  the  spirit  world, 


THE  HAPPY  END.  499 

died.  His  remains  were  taken  to  Richmond,  and 
interred  within  a  few  paces  of  the  place,  where  we 
laid  Dr.  Jeter.  In  life,  they  were  linked  in  love,  and 
often  labored  together.  Now  their  bodies  sleep  very 
near  to  each  other,  and  their  kindred  spirits  are  with 
God. 

Some  time  after  his  death  Mrs.  Jeter  had  erected 
in  his  honor  a  monument, — a  simple,  lofty  granite 
shaft — fit  type  of  his  own  exalted,  guileless  and  im- 
perishable character. 

No  attempt  has  been  made  to  enumerate  the  many 
formal  honors  which  were  bestowed  upon  him  dur- 
ing his  life.  It  may  be  well,  however,  to  indicate,  at 
once,  the  esteem  in  which  he  was  held,  and  the  bur- 
dens which  he  was  called  to  bear,  by  mentioning  the 
various  official  positions  which  he  held  at  the  time 
that  death  put  an  end  to  his  labors. 

"  In  addition  to  his  duties  as  senior  editor  of  the  Religious  Herald, 
he  was  also  President  of  the  Board  of  Trustees  of  the  Southern  Bap- 
tist Theological  Seminary,  at  Louisville,  Ky.;  President  of  the  Board 
of  Trustees  of  Richmond  College ;  President  of  the  Board  of  Trus- 
tees of  the  Richmond  Female  Institute  ;  Vice-President  of  the  Board 
of  Foreign  Missions  of  the  Southern  Baptist  Convention,  and  Vice- 
President  of  the  State  Mission  Board  of  the  Baptist  General  Associa- 
tion of  Virginia." 

In  his  reminiscences  of  Dr.  Jeter,  Dr.  Dunaway 
wrote  a  very  readable  article  on  "  The  Monuments 
to  his  Memory."  After  speaking  of  his  controlling 
influence  in  the  General  Association  of  Virginia,  the 
Triennial  Convention  and  the  Southern  Baptist  Con- 
vention, he  concluded  in  the  following  words  : 

"  About  fifty-six  years  ago  Dr.  Jeter  met  Dr.  J.  B.  Taylor  and  a  few 
kindred  spirits,  at  five  o'clock  one  spring  morning,  in  the  Second 
Baptist  Church,  to  confer  on  the  necessity  of  furnishing  higher  edu- 
cation to  young  men  preparing  for  the  ministry.     Out  of  that  confer- 


500  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

ence  grew  the  Education  Board,  and  from  the  board  sprang  Richmond 
College.  From  that  time  till  his  death,  save  the  tew  years  of  his 
residence  in  Missouri,  he  was  an  active  member  of  the  Board  of  Trus- 
tees, and,  for  the  most  of  that  time,  the  president  of  the  Board,  which 
position  he  was  filling  with  great  acceptance  and  efficiency  at  the 
time  of  his  death.  He  gave  to  Bichmond  College  his  thought,  time, 
labor,  love  and  money ;  and  its  history  could  not  be  accurately  writ- 
ten without  giving  his  name  a  conspicuous  place  on  almost  every 
page.  Nothing  touching  the  prosperity  of  the  College  was  indiffer- 
ent to  him.  His  last  direct  contribution  to  the  Religious  Herald  was 
in  reference  to  this  educational  institution.  Richmond  College,  in 
all  its  grand  proportions  and  architectural  beauty,  stands  at  the  head 
of  the  street  on  which  he  lived  and  died — a  monument  to  the  noble 
man  who  was  one  of  its  founders,  and  one  of  its  truest,  best  and  wis- 
est friends. 

SOUTHERN  BAPTIST  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY. 

Never  having  himself  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  a  collegiate  or 
theological  training,  he  was  nevertheless  the  friend  and  benefactor  ot 
all  educational  institutions.  He  was  the  champion  of  ministerial  ed- 
ucation, and  took  a  lively  interest  in  the  establishment,  growth  and 
prosperity  of  the  Southern  Baptist  Theological  Seminary,  and  gave 
liberally  of  his  means  to  endow  it.  He  was  also  the  honored  Presi- 
dent of  the  Board  of  Trustees  of  that  institution  at  the  time  of  hi8 
death. 

It  would  be  a  fitting  tribute  to  his  memory  if  the  Baptists  of  the 
South  would  erect  a  handsome  building  in  connection  with  that  insti- 
tution, or  richly  endow  one  of  its  professorships,  as  a  memorial  of 
him  and  of  his  zeal,  fidelity  and  liberality  in  its  behalf. 

RICHMOND   FEMALE  INSTITUTE. 

Dr.  Jeter  was  also  deeply  interested  in  the  education  of  females 
and  was  one  of  the  founders  and  patrons  of  Richmond  Female  Insti- 
tute. He  was  a  constant  visitor  to  that  school,  and  was  ever  ready  to 
do,  give  and  sacrifice  for  its  prosperity.  He  was,  at  the  time  of  his 
death,  the  President  of  its  Board  of  Trustees,  and  the  Institute  sus- 
tained a  great  loss  in  his  death.  On  the  casket  at  his  funeral,  among 
other  floral  offerings,  was  a  beautiful  anchor  and  cross  of  immortelles 
with  the  inscription  :  "  A  tribute  of  love  to  the  memory  of  our  late 
President,  by  the  faculty  and  students  of  Richmond  Female  Insti- 
tute." 

As  I  look  around  I  see  other  monuments  to  his  memory,  which  I 
would  like  to  mention  ;  but  I  must  forbear,  as  this  article  is  already 
too  long — too  long  for  the  average  reader  of  this  restless,  busy  age  ; 
but  too  short  to  half  tell,  even  in  briefest  outline,  the  wonderful  story 
of  his  deeds.  In  a  former  article  was  mentioned  the  valuable  labor 
performed,  the  good  accomplished  and  the  influence  eierted,  by  his 
able  writings  as  editor  and  author. 

What  a  long,  busy,  honorable,  useful  life  was  his !  How  great  is 
and  must  be  his  posthumous  influence  !  What  a  noble  example  did 
he  leave  behind  him!    What  an  inspiration  to  the  living !    How  rich 


THE  HAPPY  END.  501 

and  glorious  must  be  his  heavenly  reward  !  How  bright  his  crown  in 
glory  I  "  They  that  be  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firma- 
ment ;  and  they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness,  as  the  stars  forever 
and  forever." 

When  I  think  of  him  in  his  glorified  state,  resting  from  toil,  care 
and  pain,  dwelling  amid  the  splendors  of  an  eternal  day,  I  check  my 
grief  and  suppress  the  tear  of  sorrow  at  his  death,  and  say  : 

"  Forgive,  blest  saint,  the  tributary  tear, 

That  mourns  thine  exit  from  a  world  like  this; 

Forgive  the  wish  that  would  have  kept  thee  here, 

And  stayed  thy  progress  to  the  realms  of  bliss." 

The  most  conspicuous  monument  erected  in  honor 
of  Dr.  Jeter  was  the  Jeter  Memorial  Hall  at  Rich- 
mond College.  I  leave  it  to  my  life-long  friend,  Dr.  C. 
H.  Ryland,  Financial  Secretary  of  Richmond  College, 
to  furnish  the  history  of  that  monument. 

THE  JETER   MEMORIAL. 

Dr.  William  E.  Hatcher: 

Dear  Brother: — As  chairman  of  the  Jeter  Memorial  Committee, 
you  are  well  acquainted  with  the  history  of  its  work,  but  as  you 
desire  an  official  statement  of  the  origin,  progress  and  completion  of 
the  enterprise,  I  gladly  give  the  essential  facts  from  the  record. 
From  the  time  of  Dr.  Jeter's  death  there  was  a  consensus  of  opinion 
that  so  conspicuous  a  character  should  receive  an  enduring  monu- 
ment at  the  hands  of  his  many  friends  and  admirers.  An  informal 
conference  was  held  on  the  9th  of  March,  just  three  weeks  after  he 
died,  and  other  meetings  followed  on  the  16th  and  18th  instants. 
There  was  no  difference  of  opinion  as  to  the  propriety  or  wisdom  of  a 
memorial,  but  there  was  a  wide  divergence  of  views  as  to  the  shape  it 
should  take.  A  few  very  earnestly  insisted  upon  a  statue  on  the 
Richmond  College  campus,  but  the  following  paper  was  subsequently 
cordially  adopted :  "  In  response  to  the  very  general  desire  that 
some  suitable  memorial  of  the  life  and  labors  of  Rev.  J.  B.  Jeter, 
D.D.,  should  be  secured,  we,  the  brethren  and  friends  who  have  as- 
sembled to  consider  the  matter,  after  due  deliberation  and  considera- 
tion, recommend  the  following  as  the  most  apjsropriate  and  feasible 
method  of  meeting  the  wishes  of  all  concerned  and  honoring  the 
memory  of  the  great  and  good  man  whose  death  has  so  grievously 
afflicted  us. 

"  1.  In  consideration  of  Dr.  Jeter's  attachment  to  Richmond  College 
and  his  long  service  in  its  behalf,  and  furthermore  of  the  bequest  of 
his  books,  manuscripts  and  copyrights  to  the  institution,  and  in  view 
of  the  fact?  that  in  the  present  unfinished  condition  of  the  main 
building  there  is  no  suitable  receptacle  for  his  gift,  it  seems  to  us 
most  appropriate  to  provide,  by  the  completion  of  the  college  edifice, 
for  a  spacious  library  hall,  which  shall  bear  the  name  of  the  distin- 
guished dead  and  afford  ample  protection  for  this  bequest. 


502  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

"  2.  As  testifying,' further,  our  love  and  admiration  for  this  eminent 
citizen  and  faithful  servant  of  God,  we  recommend  that  a  full-size 
bust,  and  a  full-length  portrait  be  secured,  to  be  placed  in  the  hall 
which  bears  his  name. 

"  3.  That  these  suggestions  and  recommendations  be  adopted  as  the 
sense  of  this  meeting,  and  steps  be  at  once  taken  to  put  them  into 
practical  operation.  With  these  instructions  as  a  basis,  and  after  the 
appointment  of  a  general  agent  and  treasurer,  the  work  was  eventually 
committed  to  an  executive  committee  of  five  with  power  to  act.  This 
committee  consisted  of  Eev.  William  E.  Hatcher,  D.D.,  Chairman ; 
Rev.  C.  H.  Ryland,  Secretary ;  Professor  H.  H.  Harris,  James  B. 
Winston,  Esq.,  B.  B.  Van  Buren.  H.  K.  Ellyson,  Esq.,  was  the  Treas- 
ures ;  and  Rev.  A.  E.  Dickinson,  D.D.,  Agent." 

The  consent  of  the  trustees  of  the  college  having  been  secured,  the 
south  wing  of  the  main  edifice  of  the  college  was  let  to  contract  in 
the  fall  of  1881,  with  the  understanding  that  the  committee  would  be 
responsible  only  for  the  erection  of  the  building  and  completion  of 
the  Library  Hall. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  dwell  upon  the  anxious  labor  of  the  commit- 
tee. They  were  gratuitously  and  lovingly  performed,  and  with  a 
skill  that  has  not  been  questioned.  The  appeals  of  the  agent  were  so 
cordially  responded  to  by  friends  at  the  North  that,  with  the  aid  re- 
ceived at  home,  an  ample  fund  was  in  a  short  time  secured  with  which 
to  complete  in  a  most  creditable  manner  the  proposed  memorial. 
The  work  was  gratefully  accepted  by  the  trustees  of  the  college  on 
the  18th  of  June,  1884,  and  in  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  in  the 
presence  of  a  brilliant  assemblage,  the  beautiful  hall  was  formally 
opened.  Respectfully, 

Charles  H.  Ryland,  Secretary. 


THE    CLOSE. 

It  has  already  been  mentioned  that  the  funeral  of 
Dr.  Jeter  took  place  at  the  Grace  Street  Church,  of 
which  he  was  a  member.  Owing  to  the  great  multi- 
tude in  attendance,  comparatively  few  members  of 
that  church,  were  able  to  secure  admittance,  and 
this,  together  with  the  fact  that  the  writer,  the  pas- 
tor, was  detained  by  sickness,  led  this  church  to  ar- 
range for  a  memorial  service.  This  service  was  held 
on  the  first  Sunday  morning  in  March,  1880,  and  in 
answer  to  the  request  of  the  church,  I  delivered  an 
address  on  the  life  and  character  of  Dr.  Jeter. 

This  address  was   subsequently   repeated,  by  re- 


THE  HAPPY  END.  503 

quest,  before  the  Virginia  Baptist  Historical  Society 
at  its  anniversary  in  June  of  that  year.  That  ser- 
vice, held  in  connection  with  the  General  Associa- 
tion, took  place  in  the  First  Baptist  church,  Peters- 
burg, Va.  In  some  respects  it  was  a  scene  never  to 
be  forgotten.  The  handsome  auditorium  was  fittingly 
decorated.  A  vast  congregation,  including  several 
hundred  Baptist  ministers,  many  distinguished  lay- 
men and,  not  a  few  chief  women  of  the  state,  filled 
the  house  to  overflowing.  On  the  platform  were 
assembled  the  old  preachers — dear  old  men  of  God — 
who  had  long  been  associated  with  Dr.  Jeter  in 
christian  labors.  A  truly  heavenly  spirit,  sad  indeed 
and  yet  delightful,  pervaded  the  assembly.  It  was 
one  of  those  unique,  impressive,  wonderful  occasions 
which  could  never  be  repeated  and  cannot  be  fully 
appreciated  by  those  who  did  not  witness  it.  It  was 
the  remarkable  spectacle  of  the  Virginia  Baptists,  in 
solemn  assembly,  lamenting  the  loss  and  honoring 
the  memory  of  the  most  illustrious  man  that  God 
had  ever  given  them. 

Esteemed  friends  have  urged  that  the  address,  then 
delivered,  should  have  a  place  in  this  biography. 
Since,  however,  its  historical  portions  and  its  charac- 
terizations have  already  appeared,  and,  generally  in 
enlarged  form,  in  former  chapters,  I  could  not  com- 
ply with  the  request  without  encumbering  this  story 
with  needless  repetitions.  I  venture  to  present  the 
closing  part  of  that  address  and  with  that,  this  loving 
and  unpretending  tribute  to  Dr.  Jeter  will  end  : 

"  We  have  heard  much  mournful  speech  concerning  the  death 
of  Dr.  Jeter.     A  wail  of  lamentation  has  filled  the  land,  because 


504  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

of  his  departure.  "  What  shall  we  do  without  him  ?  "  is  the  sad 
question  which  has  trembled  on  a  thousand  lips.  You  remember 
that  when  Moses  died,  the  nation  was  in  tears.  A  deep  and 
staggering  sense  of  loss  filled  the  camp.  At  that  moment,  the 
Lord  appeared  unto  Joshua  and  said :  '  Moses,  my  servant,  is 
dead;  now,  therefore,' — therefore  what?  Despair?  A  broken 
cause?  No  light  in  the  future?  Such,  in  God's  eye,  is  not  the 
logic  of  providential  losses.  '  Moses,  my  servant,  is  dead ;  now, 
therefore,  arise,  go  over  this  Jordan,  thou  and  all  this  people, 
unto  the  land  which  I  do  give  to  them,  even  to  the  children  of 
Israel.'  Moses  is  dead, — that  is  sad,  indeed, — but  the  Lord 
reigneth  and  His  promise  endureth  unto  all  generations. 

"  There  is,  I  admit,  a  sorrowful  aspect  in  the  death  of  our 
venerated  brother.  It  has  not  only  produced  a  shock,  but  a  void. 
His  towering  form  had  long  loomed,  in  stately  grandeur,  before 
us,  as  our  trusted  and  inspiring  leader,  and  it  made  us  step  more 
firmly,  because  he  was  leading  us.  His  like  we  may  not  hope  to 
see  again.     He  dies  without  a  successor,  and  we  shall  miss  him. 

"  You  must  pardon  me  for  saying  that  Dr.  Jeter  was  more  to 
me  than  any  other  living  man.  When  in  the  gloom  of  that 
Wednesday  morning,  a  messenger  summoned  me  from  my  bed, 
and  told  me  that  the  dear  old  man  had  shut  his  eyes  in  death,  I 
confess  that  an  anguish  unutterable  transfixed  my  heart.  The 
earth  dwindled,  and  looked  strangely  empty  and  lonesome  with- 
out him.  For  a  time,  I  could  not  rid  myself  of  the  feeling,  as  I 
looked  upon  the  faces  of  men,  that  the  best  of  this  world  was 
gone.  Yesterday,  when  I  came  into  this  house  and  swept  my  eye 
over  the  faces  of  friends  and  brethren,  dear  as  life  to  me,  I  felt  a 
dreadful  sense  of  change.  He  was  gone,  and  for  a  moment  it 
seemed  that  he  had  taken  everything  with  him. 

"  And  yet  we  must  not  mar  the  glory  of  his  departure  by  too 
loudly  bewailing  it  as  a  loss.  Beneath  our  sorrow,  there  is  the  swell 
of  an  uplifting,  triumphant  joy.  It  is  said  that  upon  his  dead 
face,  there  lingered  the  radiant  traces  of  a  smile.  His  life  itself 
would  be  an  unfinished  thing,  if  robbed  of  the  crowning  beauty 
of  its  end.  In  going,  he  has  left  us  a  double  heritage, — a  peerless 
life,  and  a  victorious  death.     His  end  was  a  cloudless  sunset. 

"  He  did  not  die  out  of  time.  Let  no  broken  shaft  mark  the 
spot  where  sleeps  his  form.    Let  his  monument  be  erect,  towering 


THE  HAPPY  END.  505 

and  complete,  and  upon  its  apex,  hang  that  crown  of  glory  which 
is  the  peculiar  heritage  of  the  old.  He  lived  nearly  ten  years 
beyond  that  solemn  boundary  which  God  has  set  to  our  mortal 
pilgrimage,  and  in,  those  borrowed  days,  his  strength  was  not 
'  labor  and  sorrow.'     His  last  days  were  his  best. 

"  His  bow  abode  in  strength.  His  heart  never  lost  its  hope, 
nor,  his  brain  its  force,  nor,  his  hand  its  skill.  Time  scattered 
snow-flakes  on  his  locks;  care  furrowed  his  face,  and  burdens 
bent  his  shoulders  ;  but  grace  kept  him  buoyant,  joyful  and  busy 
to  the  end.  It  was  the  wish  of  his  heart  that  he  might  live  for 
his  work,  and  not  outlive  it.  The  ink  had  scarcely  dried  in  his 
pen,  when  the  angel  came  to  call  him. 

"  He  died  splendidly, — in  all  his  ripened,  glorious  prime.  He 
did  not  crumble  into  decay,  nor  shrivel  into  imbecility.  Disease 
did  not  waste  and  age  did  not  shatter  him ;  but,  like  the  imperial 
leader  of  Israel,  he  came  to  Pisgah,  with  eye  undimmed  and 
strength  unabated.  I  account  his  death  pre-eminently  happy. 
In  the  stillness  of  the  winter  night,  when  his  hour  came  to  go, 
his  loving  Father  put  his  finger  upon  the  enginery  of  his  heart, — 
that  heart  which  had  been  beating,  beating,  beating,  for  nearly 
eighty  years,  and  beating  always  highest  for  his  Father's  honor. 
He  felt  the  solemn  touch,  and  the  vast  machinery  of  his  life 
trembled,  groaned,  creaked  and  shivered  ;  but  only  for  a  moment, 
and  then,  standing  suddenly  still,  his  glad  spirit  was  out  and  gone, 
upward  and  away,  in  its  celestial  flight.  It  was  a  translation  in 
its  suddenness,  and  an  ascension  in  its  triumph  and  glory. 

"  When  he  left  the  world — !  Ah,  but  he  has  not  left  it !  I  do 
not  say,  for  I  do  not  know,  that  his  spirit  yet  remains  with  us. 
Perhaps  it  is  so.  He  will  come  back  to  cheer  and  guard  us,  if  he 
may.  But  I  do  know  that  his  grave,  his  memory,  his  influence, 
his  teachings  will  abide.  The  light  of  his  life  will  not  go  out. 
The  track  through  space,  along  w7hich  he  ascended  to  his  eternal 
home,  will  always  be  luminous.  I  have  fancied,  if  indeed  it  was 
a  fancy,  that  wdien  the  gate  of  pearl  was  opened  for  him  to  enter, 
.truant  beams  of  the  heavenly  glory  broke  out,  and  are  now  at 
large  on  the  earth. 

"  His  death  was  a  benediction.  It  will  help  those  who  survive, 
to  live  better.  It  sets  out  the  Christian  course  in  its  completeness 
and  beauty.     His  death  was  even  better  than  his  life,  for  it  was 


506  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

the  consummation  and  complete  rounding  up  of  that  life.  He 
has  not  only  shown  us  how  to  live,  but  how  to  die. 

"  His  removal  from  earth  was  no  loss  to  him.  The  most  en- 
trancing visions  of  the  heavenly  glory  that,  some  of  us,  ever  had 
were  opened  by  his  sermons.  How  his  soul  used  to  climb  and 
pant,  as  he  portrayed  the  glory  of  Christ,  the  exaltation  of  the 
saints,  and  the  unfading  joys  of  the  skies  !  Borne  upwards  on  the 
pinions  of  faith,  he  seemed  sometimes  to  catch  sight  of  the  celestial 
city,  and  to  mingle  in  its  holy  services.  Much  as  he  loved  this 
world,  he  often  sighed  for  heaven.  Indeed,  earth  had  no  charms 
for  him,  except  his  foretaste  of  the  world  to  come.  For  a  long 
time,  before  he  went  out  from  us,  his  heart  had  left  us — his  con- 
versation was  in  heaven. 

"  He  had  a  right  to  go.  He  was  fairly  entitled  to  his  discharge 
from  the  army  of  the  church  militant.  He  had  more  than  served 
out  his  time.  His  mansion  was  ready,  and  his  rest  remained  in 
waiting  for  him.  Sixty  years  he  had  walked,  and  worked,  and 
waited.  It  makes  me  glad  to  think  that  he  has  entered  into  the 
heavenly  court,  and  now  beholds  the  King  in  his  beauty. 

"  I  always  speak  tremblingly  of  heaven.  It  befits  not  us  to  talk, 
in  glib  flippancy,  of  that  holy,  unseen  world.  But  it  seems  that 
we  knew  enough  of  Dr.  Jeter  to  speak,  in  no  uncertain  tones,  of  his 
eternal  destiny.  What  fate  befel  him  beyond  the  outer  gate  of  this 
world  ?  If  he  went  to  be  with  those  whose  spirit  he  breathed,  and 
whose  likeness  he  had,  then  we  may,  in  full  confidence,  declare 
that  he  has  gone  to  heaven. 

" '  These  which  are  arrayed  in  the  white  robes,  who  are  they,  and 
whence  came  they  ?  These  are  they,  which  came  out  of  the  great 
tribulation,  and  they  washed  their  robes,  and  made  them  white  in 
the  blood  of  the  Lamb.'  Was  not  the  spirit  of  our  venerated 
brother,  meet  for  that  company  ?  His  robes  had  been  washed  in 
the  blood,  and  he  had  overcome  the  world.  What  is  the  occupa- 
tion of  this  white-robed  multitude,  which  no  man  can  number, 
standing ^befo re  the  throne,  with  palms  in  their  hands?  Do  they 
not  cry  with  a  great  cry,  saying  :  '  Salvation  unto  our  God  which 
sitteth  on  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb?'  Why  might  not  he 
join  that  multitude,  and  take  part  in  those  employments?  For 
three  score  years  on  earth,  he  had  earnestly  striven  to  glorify  God, 
his  Maker  and  Saviour.     What  is  the  history  and  inward  char- 


THE  HAPPY  END.  507 

acter  of  those  who  crowd  about  the  heavenly  throne,  and  sing 
the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb  ?  Are  they  not  sinners  saved 
by  grace,  and  created  in  the  image  of  Christ  ?  Then  let  Jeter 
press  up  and  take  his  place  in  their  ranks.  Christ  Jesus  had 
redeemed  him  with  his  own  blood,  and  had  been  formed  in  him 
the  hope  of  glory.  But  do  they  tell  me  that  the  redeemed  wear 
crowns  and  wave  palms  of  victory  ?  Why  not  crown  him  ?  He 
fought  a  good  fight,  finished  his  course,  and  kept  the  faith.  He 
was  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light. 

I  confess  that  there  was  something  imposing,  and  even  regal 
in  the  honors  which  fell  upon  this  christian  father  when  he  came 
to  his  earthly  end.  Who  could  have  ever  dreamed  that  the  rude 
Bedford  boy,  that  set  out  sixty  years  ago,  as  a  Baptist  preacher, 
would  close  his  life  in  the  midst  of  such  distinction  and  grief?  On 
the  day  of  his  burial,  I  was  imprisoned  in  my  chamber  by  sick- 
ness, and  was  denied,  even  the  tearful  pleasure,  of  following  his 
dust  to  his  silent  home.  But  as  the  cortege  passed  my  gate,  I 
quit  my  bed,  and  with  my  wet  face  pressed  against  the  window 
pane,  gazed  at  the  hearse  as  it  bore  him  away  to  the  cemetery. 
There  came  back  to  me  the  memory  of  his  first  entrance  into  Rich- 
mond. Then,  an  awkward,  untutored  youth,  clad  in  homespun, 
covered  with  dust,  astride  his  weary  horse,  and  carrying  in  his 
saddle-bags,  all  his  earthly  store.  Thus  he  came  then,  but  now  he 
was  going  out  of  the  city,  not  to  come  back  again.  What  a 
change !  Then  a  stranger  in  a  strange  city,  but  now  he  was 
going  out,  escorted  by  a  great  and  weeping  host. 

I  opened  the  papers  from  every  part  of  the  country,  and  found 
his  editorial  brethren  crowning  him  as  a  chief.  Churches,  so- 
cieties and  conventions  made  haste  to  pay  him  honor.  Genius 
and  art  stepped  forward  to  embalm  his  memory,  and  preserve  his 
fame.  Ministers  of  Christ  of  every  name  bewailed  his  loss,  and 
unveiled  him  to  their  people,  as  an  example  to  them  in  right- 
eousness. To-night  the  Baptist  Historical  Society  calls  us  together, 
to  hear  the  story  of  his  worth,  and  to  plait  upon  his  brow  the 
garlands  of  honor.  Already  a  movement  is  on  foot  to  erect  for 
him  a  monument,  in  harmony  with  his  spirit,  and  worthy  of  his 
name. 

Why  speak  of  these  things  ?  Can  we  help  him  by  pageantry 
and  swelling  praises  ?     By  no  means.     He  never  sought  to  honor 


508  LIFE  OF  JEREMIAH  B.  JETER,  D.D. 

himself  while  he  was  alive,  and  now  he  has  passed  beyond  the 
pale  of  every  worldly  distinction.  But  it  is,  at  least,  worth  while 
to  recall  the  Word  of  the  living  God.  "  Them  that  honor  me  I 
will  honor."  These  kindly  demonstrations  in  his  favor  are  sig- 
nificant. They  are  the  echoes  of  the  salute  fired,  on  the  celestial 
plain,  when  he  went  up  to  get  his  crown.  Heaven  and  earth 
unite  in  exalting  a  faithful  man. 

We  can  never  forget  that  when  he  came  to  the  supreme  mo- 
ment, when  he  felt  the  cords  of  life  suddenly  snapping,  and  had 
breath  for  only  a  single  word,  he  said  :  "  The  Lord  reigneth ;  let 
the  earth  rejoice."  His  dying  word  was  an  anthem  and  a  shout. 
From  that  death-bed  of  anguish  and  confusion  he  has  passed 
into  the  presence  of  the  Sovereign  of  the  universe,  and  is  permitted, 
with  unclouded  vision,  to  gaze  upon  the  majesty  and  splendor  of 
his  throne.  O,  who  can  tell  with  what  exultant  joy  he  now  sings 
"  Alleluia,  for  the  Lord  God  omnipotent  reigneth  ?  " 

What  a  happy  moment  when  his  spirit  crossed  the  river  and  saw 
the  great  City !  What  floods  of  rapture  swept  over  his  soul  when 
he  heard  the  peal  of  the  heavenly  music,  and  saw  the  face  of  his 
Redeemer !  What  a  greeting  his  old  comrades  gave  him — Broad- 
dus,  Poindexter,  Taylor  and  Fuller !  What  a  moment  when  he 
and  Witt  met  in  their  eternal  reunion !  Joy  upon  joy  when  he 
saw  again  the  spirit  of  his  glorified  mother.  If,  on  the  December 
morning,  he  shouted  as  he  emerged  from  the  baptismal  waters, 
I  wonder  what  he  said  at  his  coronation.  If  he  could  be  happy, 
amidst  the  changes  and  sorrows  of  this  world,  I  wonder  what  his 
feelings  were  when  he  touched  the  pavement  of  the  heavenly 
Jerusalem.  If  he  delighted  to  sing  while  walking  through  the 
valley,  I  wonder  what  note  employed  his  lips  when  he  stood  on 
the  everlasting  hills.  And  yet  I  wonder  not.  Hark!  I  hear  his 
song  rolling  through  the  skies,  and  this  is  its  chorus : 

"  Unto  Him  that  loved  us  and  washed  us  from  our  sins  in  his 
own  blood,  and  hath  made  us  kings  and  priests  unto  God  and 
his  Father ;  to  Him  be  glory  and  dominion  forever  and  ever. 
Amen." 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY 

0035521007 


BRITTLE  DO  NOT 
PHOTOCOPY 


